Isle ESME 2412
by Bower-Of-Bliss
Summary: How do you cope when the people you love are murdered? What do you do once you've hit rock bottom? Where do you escape to when your reality is out of control? And what happens when you meet the man of your dreams, only to discover he doesn't actually exist? Take a journey into a strange, dystopian world where all is not as it seems OOC. On Hiatus.
1. The Future's Overrated

**A/N - ****I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

**Prologue - The Future's Overrated  
**

_April 13th 2412 – This day in history (abridged version)._

** 837** - Best view of Halley's Comet in 2000 years.

**1204** - Constantinople is conquered by the Fourth Crusade, temporarily ending the Byzantine Empire.

**1241** - Battle at Theiss: Mongols defeat Hungarian King Bela IV.

**1360** - On 'Black Monday', a hail storm kills an estimated one thousand English soldiers in Chartres, France. The storm and the devastation it caused also played a role in the Hundred Years' War between England and France.

**1367** - Battle at Najera Spain: Castilie and England conquer Aragon and France.

**1556** - Portuguese Marranos (secret Jews) who revert to Judaism are burned by order of the Pope.

**1759** - French forces defeat European Allies in Battle of Bergen.

**1865** - Battle of Raleigh, North Carolina.

**1873** - Colfax Massacre in Grant Parish Louisiana in which sixty African Americans were killed.

**1919** - The British Army fires on rioters in India killing hundreds of Indian Nationalists during the Amritsar Massacre.

**1923** - One of the worst storms in years hits the Japanese and Korean coastlines and is believed to claim over hundreds of lives. Rescue ships from the U.S. were delayed in their rescue mission due to the severe winds and waves.

**1949** - The Nuremberg Trials ended with 19 top aides to Adolf Hitler receiving up to 25 years for their involvement in war crimes against humanity.

**1954** - Robert Oppenheimer (father of the atomic bomb) accused of being a communist.

**1959** - Vanguard SLV-5 launched for Earth orbit (failed).

**1960** - France becomes the fourth nuclear nation exploding an A-Bomb in the Sahara.

**1965** - Flood conditions along the Mississippi effect Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Iowa and North Dakota with mass evacuations and a number of deaths.

**1970** - Apollo 13 announces, "Houston, we've got a problem!" as a Beech-built oxygen tank explodes en route to the Moon forcing the astronauts to abandon their mission and head home.

**1975** - At least seventeen people are left dead and thirty wounded in an ambush by right-wing Lebanese forces on a bus carrying Palestinians in Beirut. This signals the beginning of fifteen years of the civil war in Lebanon between the Maronite Christian groups and the Muslim militia.

**1989** - Israeli soldiers carry out a raid on a West Bank village leaving at least six Palestinians dead. This is part of the continuing attempts to quell the Palestinian uprising.

**1992** - A 5.5 magnitude earthquake hits the Netherlands, and the Great Flood hits Chicago in the U.S.

**1994** - Presidential Guards in Kigali machete twelve hundred church members to death as part of the Rwandan Genocide.

**2006** - Tornadoes strike Iowa City, causing severe property damage. It was the first tornado ever to be recorded to hit Iowa City directly. The Tornadoes that strike Iowa City are considered to be part of the Easter Week 2006 Tornado Outbreak.

**2010** - President of the People's Republic of China, Hu Jintao, met with U.S. President Barack Obama to discuss Iran's nuclear program during the Nuclear Security Summit.

**2013** - The Scientific community anxiously observed the Apophis 99942 Asteroid as it passed close to the Earth, and they calculated its future course. The combined crews of Expedition 76 and 77, collected data from their vantage point on the International Space Station. Apophis was subsequently upgraded to a level six threat on the Torino Impact Hazard scale.

**2026** - U.S. President Wyclef Jean was assassinated. Masked members of a doomsday cult calling themselves the Church Universal And Triumphant (CUT) appeared on YouTube and claimed responsibility for his murder. Despite President Jean being a deeply religious man, CUT claimed that he was a false prophet and cited verses from Mathew 24 of the Bible. They claimed his policies for dealing with the possible threat from the Apophis Asteroid went against the Bible, and stated, "The Day of Judgment must not be thwarted".

**2029** - The Apophis Asteroid was again observed as it passed within five Earth radii. Against all odds, the 1,066 foot diameter asteroid managed to pass through a gravitational keyhole, not much bigger than itself, and it changed orbit. It was confirmed, without a doubt, that the asteroid was on a collision course with the Earth, and it would occur on April 13, 2036. Apophis was upgraded to a level nine threat on the Torino Impact Hazard Scale. Due to the composition of the asteroid, the implementation of deflection methods would prove more difficult than previously predicted, and both the kinetic method and gravitational tractors were considered out of the question.

With only seven years available to prepare and execute a new mission, it was announced that a summit of leaders from every nation would meet in Geneva. Their manifesto would be to discuss contingency plans for the future survival of the human race in the unlikely event that the nuclear strategy failed.

**2036** - The devastating Apophis 99942 Asteroid hit the Earth…

Only 144,000 humans survived.


	2. This Is Your Life

**A/N - ****I don't own Twilight or its characters, just this plot.  
**

**In case you were wondering, the Apophis Asteroid is real; however, a collision with the Earth is unlikely... unless it does, in fact, manage to go through a gravitational key hole, meaning it would hit the Earth somewhere in the northern hemisphere on 13th April 2036. I suggest you not go to work that day... just to be sure.  
**

* * *

**This Is Your Life**

_Friday April 13th 2412_

"Miss Swan… The time is oh-six-thirty. This is your wake-up call. Miss Swan… The time is oh-six-thirty. This is your wake-up call."

I fumbled about blindly and threw the blanket and pillow over my head to block out the harsh, artificial light and the equally irritating voice. I groaned a muffled reply into the pillow.

"Jus' five more minutes."

_I fucking hate my life._

"Miss Swan… The time is oh-six-thirty-five. This is your second wake-up call, and now your lazy ass is running five minutes late for your scheduled human activities. Miss Swan-"

"Okay, okay, I'm up! Thank you, Alice. Please reset the alarm for the same time on Monday," I said as I reluctantly sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

"As you wish. Resetting alarm for oh-six-thirty, April the sixteenth, 2412. Today your schedule includes the following: Leave home at oh-seven-thirty hours to rendezvous with transport vehicle. Commence work at oh-eight-hundred hours. Lunch with your brother, Emmett, will be at twelve-hundred hours. Come home at seventeen-hundred hours and have dinner, alone. Then you'll watch the evening news - which we all know is really just Volturi propaganda, followed by rereading a trashy old romance novel. You will then cement your status as a sad loser, by going to bed at twenty-hundred hours. Lather, rinse, repeat… lather, rinse, repeat..."

"Yes, yes, _Mother_. I don't need to be reminded of my pathetic existence, thank you very much," I mumbled as I removed the overnight intravenous line from the permanent port situated in my inner forearm.

"My apologies, Miss Swan; it's just your current disposition is somewhat concerning. With the weekend approaching, I really think you need to get out and do something constructive, instead of moping around here by yourself. Start your meditation classes again or do something else that is interesting, because you are making me just as miserable as you are," the synthetic, female voice retorted, somewhat defensively.

"Sorry, I'm just not feeling like my old self. Since- well, you know..."

"Please elaborate, Miss Swan."

I let out a heavy sigh before going on with my explanation. "I'm grieving, Alice, and grieving is a normal human process when you lose someone who was important in your life. I just need time to get used to the fact he's gone. It's only been a few weeks, so give me a fucking break."

"I am sorry, Miss Swan, but we both know that when you start to feel too much, you start to spiral down into depression. You need to take evasive action before the worst happens."

"I miss him so much, Alice. He wasn't just my dad; he was also a really good friend. We had a special… bond, and now he's gone, my life just seems too hard. It's as though I have no purpose because I can't be around people. When I'm faced with large groups, all I can feel is the pain. This empathy... this gift - it's not a blessing; it's a fucking curse, and all I want to do is to sleep so I can get away from everything and everyone."

Reaching up, I grabbed hold of the almost empty flask of isotonic saline solution. I disconnected the line and tossed the plastic, cylindrical flask towards the recycling basket. It bounced on the edge of the basket and then fell onto the floor. The flask spun around three times and eventually rolled beneath my bedside cabinet.

I sat quietly for a few moments. I thought about Charlie and tried to suppress the tears that threatened to flow. My chest felt tight, and I had a tangible need to put my palm over my sternum and rub the skin there, in the faint hope I could just massage the ache out of my heart.

"_This is not the time for a pity party_, _Bella_," I admonished silently.

Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I winced when my bare feet made contact with the cold, hard floor. I stood and grabbed a clean insensible loss suit from the closet. Tossing the neck to ankle length undergarment over my shoulder, I walked through my narrow, utilitarian quarters and headed toward the rear end of the living space.

As I walked past my desk, I flicked on Alice's monitor, and I watched as the image of a disembodied head slowly appeared on a background display of black. The pixelated face of a young woman with bright blue eyes, dark red lips, blue-black spiky hair and small, elfin-like features became clearer. This particular manifestation of Alice had been around for a few weeks now; coincidentally, it had appeared at the same time as her latest malfunction. Previously, Alice had taken on a new image each day.

"Alice, why do you keep calling me Miss Swan? Please, call me by my first name. Come on… just once. I know you can do it," I asked with some exasperation in my voice.

"It is no longer within my programmed capability to call you by your Christian name. You already know this."

"Yes, but why has this happened all of a sudden? When you started to call me Miss Swan, instead of Bella, I thought you were just pulling one of your lame pranks. This has gone on too long, and it's annoying the shit out of me. Either you sort it out, or I'm going to have to take you apart."

"Nooooooooo," Alice whined. "Not that again, please. Last time you did that, I lost the ability to recite all the quotes from Monty Python and the… something-something."

I rolled my eyes at her stupidity. For a computer with a supposed IQ of 7000, there were times when Alice could be a bit clueless. I had purposely wiped 'The Holy Grail' from her memory banks. You can only hear, "We are the knights who say Ni," and "we want a shrubbery," so many times before it gets tiresome.

"Okay, fine, I won't open you up, but you'll need to work around it. We've broken through parts of your programming before; we'll just need to practice. Just repeat after me… say the word 'bell'."

"Bell."

"Now say the sound, 'la'."

"La."

"Now just put them together. Bell… la. Bell… la. Go on… try it," I encouraged.

"Bell… la. Bell… la."

"That's it! See, you can do it! Now say it - what's my name again?"

"It's… mmmmmm. It's mmm- muh-muh- buh… Miss Swan! Oh fuck it!"

"Arrrgh! How is it I can teach you to curse, and you remember every single word, but you can't say my first name?" I slapped my hand on the side of her monitor in frustration and then continued walking toward the cleansing chamber.

"I am sorry, Miss Swan." Alice sighed morosely.

Reaching the end of my quarters, I placed my new I.L suit on a hook and stripped out of the used, skin-hugging undergarment. Looking at the gauge on the collar of the khaki colored body suit, I noted that it held just over four-hundred milliliters of fluid. I pushed the used undergarment through the hatch of the laundry chute. From the laundry depository, it will be collected, and the precious fluid the suit had absorbed from my body into its holding cells, will be repossessed and recycled.

I opened the cleansing chamber door and stepped into the claustrophobic enclosure, naked as the day I was born. I closed the chamber door and picked up the small pair of eye goggles that hung from the door handle. As I slipped the goggles over my head and positioned them over my eyes, I called out to Alice.

"Start the sequence, please. Oh, and speaking of lathering, I want to do my hair toda-"

My words were abruptly cut off, when I started coughing in spasms as the vapor-like cleansing particles immediately began to enter the chamber. The acrid tasting chemicals caused me to shudder in disgust the second they hit the inside of my mouth.

_Bitch did that on purpose._

"Miss Swan, it is advisable to keep your mouth closed at all times during the cleansing sequence."

The foul taste of the chemical concoction assaulted my oral mucosa, and it caused the glands underneath my tongue to produce copious amounts of saliva. I had no choice but to spit onto the floor.

"Miss Swan, please refrain from ejecting bodily fluids within the cleansing chamber. It's unhygienic... and spitting is really gross and unladylike."

In that moment, if I could have spoken, I would have unleashed a tirade of curses at the maddening computer system that was supposed to make my life easier. At times, the **A**rtificial **L**inguistic **I**ntegrated **C**omputer **E**ntity, or _ALICE_, was like a nagging mother with passive aggressive tendencies, which is why I sometimes called her _'Mother'_.

Not that I'd ever experienced a real mother and daughter relationship…

_Two-hundred years ago, when the Earth was resettled, the Volturi Conglomerate took control of the Earth's water. They were responsible for the decontamination of water on the planet's surface, the equitable distribution of clean, underground water and the processing of waste water. Subsequently, the Volturi became the most powerful organization on Earth. They then managed to take over other critical infrastructures such as power generation, food distribution and law and order._

_Twenty-three years ago, in fact, only a year before I was born, the Volturi began their foray into the scientific community and created FORKS, the **F**ellowship **O**f **R**eproduction **K **-**S**trategists. They argued that due to a lack of adequate resources such as clean water and reliable crops, it would be necessary to slow down the birthrate of humans, to prevent an over-population crisis and a subsequent famine. As a result, the reproduction of future generations became a process that was sanctioned by law, whereby permission must first be sought from FORKS before a couple could have a baby. My mother, Renee McCarty, was the first transgressor of the new law, and they made an example of her._

_Before meeting Charlie, Renee had been married to Phillip McCarty with whom she had a son, Emmett. Like my dad, Phillip McCarty had also been a security officer, and according to Charlie, he had been killed during a raid by Resistance members while protecting a water shipment. After Phil's death, Renee and Charlie became close, and I was the result of that closeness._

_Initially, Renee and Charlie tried to hide the pregnancy, but at seven months, their crime was discovered and they had been arrested. At the end of her trial, my mother had been given a choice; she could have an abortion and live out the rest of her days in Volterra Prison, or she could allow her baby to live, and then face a public execution shortly after the birth._

_You can guess what sentence she chose._

_Charlie had been given a life sentence, and he had already served over twenty-two years, but he had reportedly been killed a few weeks ago during a botched escape attempt. I was still trying to come to grips with the circumstances of his death. It seemed so unlike him to want to attempt an escape. Although Charlie had been in prison for my whole life, even as a child, I had still managed to see him almost every weekend, thanks to the kind-hearted Clearwater family who had fostered Emmett and me. Charlie had been the one person in my life who could keep me calm and stop me from losing my shit when my gift became too much to handle. He, too, had a gift, and my weekly visits with him were my link to sanity._

I grabbed a washcloth and swiped it over my body in an attempt to feel clean. I closed my eyes, and for a moment, I imagined I was standing under a spray of water as it gently cascaded from overhead. It was a favorite fantasy of mine.

Before the year 2036, the availability of fresh water was plentiful on most of the Earth's continents, and for the most part, people washed in running water every day. I've watched a lot of old video footage from the history archives. Back then, homes had showers and sometimes baths too, instead of chemical cleansing chambers.

Before I could get too carried away by my shower daydreams, the cleansing sequence abruptly stopped.

"Cleansing sequence complete, please step out of the cubicle," Alice announced in a monotone voice, as if I'd never once used the cleansing chamber in all my twenty-two years.

"Alice, I said I wanted to do my hair today," I growled out in annoyance.

Alice released the magnetic lock, and the door of the cleansing chamber popped opened with a loud click, allowing a cold draft to enter.

"You are running five minutes late. Thanks to this morning's sleep-in, you'll need to economize today's routine. Please step out of the cubicle."

Shivering from the cold, I stepped out and grabbed a nearby towel, and I hastily dried myself. Looking in the mirror, I ran a brush haphazardly through my hair and attempted to do something with the slightly oily and limp mess. Eventually, I gave up trying and just put it into a tight braid that stopped halfway down my back. I donned the clean, body-hugging I.L suit and walked toward the galley in search of some Total Parenteral Nutrition.

_-oo0oo-_

I was waiting for the last eighty milliliters of the flask of TPN to infuse, while watching the news, when there was a knock at the door. I looked at the digital screen of the intravenous pump and noted I still had ten minutes until the flask would be complete.

"There's someone at the door," Alice stated, as though it was a new revelation.

"Well, thank you for pointing that out, Captain Obvious," I said sarcastically. "Who is it?"

The image on Alice's monitor switched over to the video feed from the camera that was mounted outside, just above my front door. Carlisle was standing outside, waving at me through the camera.

"Do you want me to let him in?" Alice asked.

"Of course you should let him in! You know he always has an open invitation. Sometimes I swear you are going computer senile, Alice."

The front door opened, and Carlisle strode in, grinning mischievously. He then sat next to me on the sofa and patted me playfully on my knee. I only looked at him for a second, but it was all that was needed to enable me to read his psyche.

_Joy. Happiness. Friend._

Being an Empath, my ability to read people was like an involuntary reflex.

"Good morning, Miss Swan. Morning, Miss Alice, he greeted cheerfully."

"Ugh… You're as bad as Alice is. What's with everyone calling me 'Miss' all the freakin' time?"

"Good morning, Doctor Cullen. You're looking very handsome today," Alice cooed.

I looked at her monitor and watched incredulously as Alice appeared to bat her eyelashes at Carlisle.

"Thank you, Alice. You look very pretty today. Is that a new shade of lipstick you're wearing?"

At this question, Alice pouted and shook her head. The fact that she had been unable to change her image for the last few weeks was still a sore point for her.

"Well, it suits you anyway. I really like it. Don't go changin'," Carlisle consoled, and I had to hold in a laugh when Alice's face appeared to blush from the compliment.

"I'm almost finished here," I said, pointing at the intravenous pump beside me. "Just a few more mils and I'll be ready to go."

"That's fine - you finish your breakfast. We've got time. I'm a bit early today."

We sat in companionable silence and watched the news feed on the TV. It was all bad news. A category five hurricane, by the name of Phillipa, had destroyed a large biosphere on the west coast, wiping out a vital wheat crop. A water shipment had been hijacked from the Volturi desalination plant, and then there had been yet another disturbance at Volterra Prison. Thinking of Volterra caused me to think of Charlie again, and I could feel the sorrow beginning to creep over me. Carlisle turned to look at me, and evidently he saw it in my expression. He reached out and put an arm around my shoulder, drawing me into a hug. The affection he offered caused a sob to escape, which was quickly followed by a torrent of tears.

"I… don't know how to- to… go on li- living without him," I stuttered out between heaving sobs.

"I know, honey. I know. It will get better. I promise it will, but it's going to take some time," he said soothingly. "Plus, you know I'm always here for you, right?

The intravenous pump alarmed to alert me to the empty TPN flask. Instead of releasing me, Carlisle gently rocked me in his embrace before finally letting go.

"You need to save those precious tears, or this is all going to be pointless," he said, smiling at me and then gesturing to the TPN.

I gave him a nod and a watery smile, then turned the pump off and extracted the IV line from my forearm.

As soon as the IV equipment was put away, I collected my tote bag and slid my feet into a pair of snow boots. After hearing an approaching rumble and another knock at the front door, I grabbed my gloves and Carlisle and I headed out of my quarters.

Just before I closed the door behind me, I heard Alice call out, "Goodbye, and have a good day, Miss Swan."

I poked my head back through the doorway and noted she had switched the TV channel over to 'Days Of Our Lives'.

"You too, Alice. And maybe you can practice saying my name instead of watching soaps all day, huh?

"Yeah… sure, sure, Miss Swan," was her distracted reply.

After locking my front door, I turned to see Carlisle standing expectantly next to the shoulder-high tracks of a Bombardier snowcat transporter. It had the FORKS logo emblazoned on the side.

"Ready to go to work?"

Carlisle insisted I climb the ladder of the transporter before him. I should have known better, because his psyche was brimming with mischief. Just before I could swing myself across to stand on the tracks of the snowcat, I felt his gloveless hand swat me on the backside.

"Move your ass, Miss Swan. We don't have all day."

I turned and jabbed my index finger down sharply at his chest, digging it in firmly as I spoke. "I think _you_ also need to learn to say my first name, _Carlisle_, before I'll willingly allow you to touch my ass," I said semi-seriously.

I covered Carlisle's smirking face with my gloved hand and gave him a forceful shove, which caused him to lose his grip on the slippery rungs. He fell backwards off the ladder and dropped into the snow below. Instantly, his hand went to the back of his head. He winced as he rubbed the skin there and mouthed a silent _'Ouch'_.

He quickly recovered and stood up to dust the snow off himself. A smirk then overtook his handsome face as he looked up at me and mimicked Alice's parting words by saying, "Yeah… sure, sure, Miss Swan."

I huffed and scowled at him in response which only caused him to let out a chuckle. I reached over and gripped the hand-holds to swing my body across to stand on the track of the snowcat. I heard Carlisle scrabbling behind me as he quickly ascended the ladder again. I refused to look at him and ducked my head to enter the transporter, not bothering to wait for him. He quickly caught up to me, and as I walked down the narrow aisle, heading toward a row of empty seats near the back, I could sense he was still grinning widely as he followed close behind.

Suddenly, I felt his warm breath at the back of my neck and his icy cold hands as they came to rest on my hips. His thumbs swept downward and then up, twice, in an arc, from the top of my ass to the middle, before settling at the center of my lower back.

He whispered seductively next to my ear, "Well if that's all it takes… _Bella._"

* * *

**A/N – ****Song inspirations **

******- This Is Your Life - by The Dust Brothers. **

******- Everyday Formula - by Regurgitator**

**Yeah I updated early. I originally set the 13th as an end date to have the next chapter finished because I needed the motivation. Anyone complaining? You have no idea how many times I thought about deleting this story. I'm still a reluctant writer and doing this stuff scares the shit outta me. **

**Thanks for the kind reviews. I've replied to all who have enabled PM's. It really means a lot to me.  
**

**Thanks go to FerlaV for pre-reading and giving me encouragement.**

**Next update ... some time in the future.**

**B-o-B xxx  
**

**Go ahead ... make my day  
**

**l  
**

**l  
**

**V**


	3. Barrel Of A Gun

**A/N - I don't own Twilight or its characters, just this plot.**

**So initially, I decided to write a science fiction story so I wouldn't have to do any research, and I could just make shit up as I went along. Consequently, I now know more than is usually required about asteroids, 'K' strategist organisms, acid rain and bowel surgery.**

* * *

_Suddenly, I felt his warm breath at the back of my neck and his icy cold hands as they came to rest on my hips. _

_His thumbs swept downward and then up, twice, in an arc, from the top of my ass to the middle, before settling at the center of my lower back._

_He whispered seductively next to my ear, "Well if that's all it takes… Bella."_

___-oo0oo-_  


**Barrel Of A Gun**

_Friday April 13th 2412_

I rolled my eyes in exasperation at his antics. Carlisle was always a shameless flirt. If not for the fact that I could read him like an open book, I too, would probably be panting and drooling, just like some of the other desperate and dateless women on base. Instead, I sharply nudged my elbow backwards, catching him under the ribs, right into the diaphragm. It winded him, causing him to huff out a strangled gasp of air.

Frequently, when I've accompanied Carlisle in public, I have witnessed how women always tend to gravitate toward him, and how they sniff around him like bitches in heat. It's never bothered me, because I could see he was in no way seriously attracted to them… or me.

"What in the hell was that for?" he complained, as I sat down on one of the empty seats.

"You are such an ass. If I didn't already know better, I'd think you were actually interested in me _that_ way."

Carlisle didn't bother to respond. He just threw me one of his trademark smirks and sat down in the seat next to me. As the snowcat roared to life, he threw his arm over my shoulder and gave me a slight squeeze while simultaneously planting a quick kiss on my temple.

"Man-whore," I snarked. I nudged him in the ribs again, and he let go of me. "What would Lauren, your _fiancée_, have to say if she knew you were so touchy-feely with me?"

"Probably not a lot." We '_broke up_' yesterday," he said, using air-quotes for emphasis.

While I wasn't exactly devastated over their break-up, I was seriously confused. Only two days ago, Lauren and Carlisle had gone to the Proposal Office within the F.O.R.K.S, and as far as I knew, they had been granted permission to have a baby and presumably wanted to marry. This was the usual way of things.

The original 'K' strategist theory, the F.O.R.K.S used to justify their methods of population control, was that the environment had a maximum carrying capacity, and to go beyond that capacity would cause ecological and sociological instability. The problem with this theory is that the human gene-pool, since resettlement two-hundred years ago, has been somewhat limited. Ten years ago, fatal genetic abnormalities began to appear in the population. In some instances, it resulted in still-births, in others; the newborns only lived for a short period of time.

Indeed, the world had become a small place, and it seemed almost everyone was related. One only had to look at the genealogical records, to find that their neighbor, life-long best-friend or newest acquaintance was in some way a distant blood relation. The F.O.R.K.S then decreed that those couples wishing to get married would be required, by law, to meet with a Genetics Counselor. The role of the GC was to determine if their genes would be suitably matched, thereby ensuring they could produce the healthiest offspring possible.

If a couple was granted permission, they would often walk out of the office, engaged to be married. This is why the GC's office colloquially became known as the _'Proposal Office_'. If a couple was denied, the relationship was usually called off. Even if they claimed they didn't want any children, the risk of an unexpected pregnancy was too high a price to pay. No one wanted to be publicly beheaded or sentenced to life in Volterra.

"You know… I've noticed that you propose a lot. Lauren is the sixth woman you have proposed to in the last year. What's going on?"

Carlisle drew his face close to my ear and spoke in a low voice. "Lauren was just helping me out with an experiment. She knew the proposal was a sham, and she just played along."

"So Emily, Gianna, Tori, Zafrina and Heidi... were they all sham proposals, too?" I looked at him and saw the truth before he even spoke. I just couldn't understand why he was proposing to all of these women when he wasn't even attracted to them.

Carlisle nodded. "Don't worry about them. Believe me; I'm not leaving behind a trail of broken hearts. They were all willing to go along with the charade."

His statement just confused me even more. As much as I hated to, I had to ask him my next question. "Well what about Angela?"

I sensed a wave of regret pass through Carlisle's psyche at the mention of Angela's name. Carlisle and Angela had genuinely been in love, and she was the first woman whom Carlisle had proposed to. Sadly, their marriage request had been denied, and Carlisle and Angela parted amicably. In a strange twist of fate, it was Carlisle, who had introduced Angela and Ben to each other. They had gone on to marry, and Angela was blissfully in love… and pregnant.

"Angela is the reason I've been doing this. I loved Angela, and to this day, I still think we were meant to be together. I don't believe for one single second that we were genetically incompatible," he said with a hint of anger in his hushed voice.

"Are you saying you think the GC was lying to you?" I asked incredulously, my voice rising by a couple of octaves.

"_Shhhhhh_," he admonished. He looked around surreptitiously. He was trying to determine if anyone was taking any notice of our conversation. "I think the _FORKS _have been lying to a lot of people," he whispered.

Carlisle stared directly into my eyes, and he gave me a meaningful look. I could discern several emotions from his psyche.  
_  
__Anger. Sadness. Fear._

Carlisle's eyes left mine, and his gaze flicked diagonally to a seat three rows in front of us. I looked over as well, and one glance at Irina, told me she was taking more of an interest in Carlisle and me than she should be.

_Curiosity. Suspicion._

When our eyes met, Irina quickly averted her gaze and pretended to read the book in her hands.

"Look… this isn't the best place for this conversation. I promise I'll explain another time." Carlisle said finally.

Turning away, I looked through the window of the snowcat transporter, and I observed the dreary snow-covered landscape. For as far as the eye could see, there was no vegetation. In a month or so, winter would be over, and all too soon, we would have to deal with the harsh summer sun and dust storms.

Not far from our destination, I noticed a convoy of yellow-colored snow plows, bulldozers and dump trucks, parked by the side of the road. A group of people wearing fluorescent orange overalls with black balaclavas could be seen sitting in the vehicle cabs or standing on the backs of the trucks. They were shoveling the snow around to maximize the carrying capacity within the trays. Their orange-colored overalls indicated that it was a Volterra chain gang. They were in the process of transporting the acidic snow to the Volturi decontamination plant. The prisoners who were standing outside of the trucks, were wearing black-colored eye goggles, and their bulky, black GPS cuffs were clearly visible, resting around their ankles.

"You'd think that after two-hundred or so years of resettlement, the Volturi would have made some sort of improvement in the sulphur dioxide and nitric oxide levels…" I mused out aloud.

"It's a big planet, Miss Swan, and we few remaining humans only resettled on a small part of it. We can clean up the water here, but eventually the atmosphere moves it on; then it just dumps the dirty stuff back on us. The water deacidification process is slow, because the process is dependent on finding large sources of lime, and so far the Volturi has only found a few small caches on what remains of this continent. I think it may take many thousands of years to heal the atmosphere and the Earth from the damage that was inflicted by Apophis."

After a twenty minute journey with half a dozen stops along the way, we passed through the gates of the FORKS complex. The transporter came to a stop and like sheep, we walked along the narrow aisle toward the exit. Carlisle, at my insistence, was walking in front of me. As I stepped out onto the metal track of the snowcat, Carlisle grasped my hand and helped me to step across onto the platform that the transporter had parked alongside, to ensure I didn't slip on the ice. Once I was safely across, we headed toward the medical clinic.

Unlocking the front door of the clinic, Carlisle then turned on the overhead fluorescent lights. They flickered a few times before finally staying lit. Closing the door behind us, he opened the venetian blind and turned the 'Clinic Open' sign around to let passers-by know that we were ready for business.

I walked through to the back office and stowed my tote bag, snow boots, scarf and gloves in my locker. I grabbed my regular clinic shoes and then headed to the front office. Carlisle was standing next to my desk.

"Where's the appointment book? I'd like to see what we're in for today."

I pulled out the top drawer of the desk and picked up the planner. Instead of handing it directly to Carlisle, I opened it, grabbed a pencil and wrote in the 8am slot. I closed the planner, handed it to him and walked over to the front door. I turned the door sign around to indicate the clinic was closed and locked the door. Carlisle looked up from the planner with a concerned look on his face.

"Why are you my first patient of the day, Miss Swan?"

"I think I'm going to need a course of antibiotics. My J-tube site is red and feeling sore," I admitted.

"I see. Well come on through to the examination bed and let me take a look at it," he said gesturing for me to go into his office. "Go behind the curtain and lower your I.L suit down far enough so I can see the insertion site. I'll just grab a clean towel from the cupboard so you can cover your breasts while I examine you."

I walked behind the curtain and hoisted myself onto the examination bed. I removed my shirt and tossed it over a nearby chair. Unzipping the torso and forearm zippers of the I.L suit, I then peeled the garment off my upper body and let it hang around my waist. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, with one of my arms folded in front of my boobs, when Carlisle's arm shot through a gap in the curtains.

"Thanks," I murmured, and I took the small, thin towel, which was barely bigger than a face cloth, from his grasp. Swinging my body around, I reclined on the examination bed and positioned the thin towel over my chest, leaving my lower abdomen exposed. "I'm ready," I announced, and Carlisle opened the curtain and then turned on the overhead examination light. Carlisle then removed the small piece of gauze I had taped around the J-tube insertion site. The dressing was stained with haemoserous exudate. Carlisle briefly examined the bloody, soiled dressing and then tossed it into the trash can that was situated under the examination table.

"How long has it been like this?" Carlisle asked, while palpating the skin around the J-tube.

I winced at the sharp, stinging pain his touch elicited. "I noticed the skin getting sore yesterday afternoon. By late last night, it started weeping," I confessed. "I haven't used it since yesterday morning. I wasn't sure if it might have become displaced, so I thought it would be safer to use the IV nutrition until I got it checked out."

He nodded and then smiled at me in sympathy. "Wise decision, Miss Swan. Have you ever had an infection around the site or a tube dislodgment before?"

"Yeah, I've had both. I got cellulitis around the site about four years ago. A two-week course of antibiotics cleared it up, and some silver dressings helped to heal the damaged skin."

"And the dislodgement?"

"That happened when I was eleven, about a year after I had the gastrectomy. I nearly died again," I explained.

_I was only ten years old. My half-brother, Emmett, was my hero, and I would trail him like a shadow. Being four years older, a teenager and a boy, Emmett was always trying to get away from me so he could spend time with his friends without the hassle of having to look out for his "annoying kid sister"._

_Emmett was planning to go in search of relics with the Clearwater kids, Leah and Seth, and I had begged to join them. Instead, they had pretended to play hide and seek with me, so they could run off without me tagging along._

_After counting to one-hundred, I went off in search of them, and after thirty minutes, I was unable to find them. I called out that I had given up, but no one answered. I realized I had once again been ditched, so I went off on my own to look for them among the ruins._

_I was walking through the local junkyard, when old man Billy Black sprang out at me from behind a derelict car body. He aimed a shotgun at my head and then babbled nonsensically._

_**"The third angel sounded his trumpet, and a great star, blazing like a torch, fell from the sky on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water - the name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters turned bitter, and many people died from the waters that had become bitter… To open the eyes of the blind, to bring forth from prison the bound one, from the house of restraint those sitting in darkness… For this cause, a man will leave his father and mother, and will be joined to his wife. The two will become one flesh… Lo, this child is set for the fall and rising up of many in Israel, and for a sign spoken against."**_

_I had no idea what he was talking about, and I didn't hang around to ask questions. Terrified, I ran away, not caring which direction I headed. I only wanted to get away from the crazy man with the gun. At one point, while I was running, I made the mistake that would drastically change my life - I looked behind me instead of where I was going. I tripped and fell over an embankment, and I tumbled for about thirty feet, coming to rest on the twisted remains of a reinforced concrete wall. I was lying on my back, and when I lifted my head, I saw a rusty, bloodied rebar was protruding from my abdomen. Thankfully, I then lost consciousness._

_From what Emmett had told me, it was almost nightfall before the alarm was raised. Sue and Harry, our foster parents, were out of their minds with worry. A search party was organized, and after an hour of searching, young Sam Uley and his father, made the gruesome discovery. Between them, they lifted my body off the rebar, which started the bleeding afresh. They ran with me back to our compound and on seeing me, pale, bloody, limp and motionless, Emmett reportedly passed out, thinking he had partly been responsible for killing his only living blood-relation._

_When Emmett regained consciousness and saw I was gone, he became inconsolable. Apparently, it had taken Harry a full ten minutes, to get Emmett to calm down long enough to explain that I had been taken to the medical center in Alexandria, a few townships away._

_I was under medical supervision for two months, and rehabilitation took another six months. The damage caused by the rusty rebar, and the subsequent infection due to peritonitis nearly killed me. The rebar had punctured through my stomach and part of my small intestine. The surgeons had no choice but to perform a gastrectomy. They excised my gangrenous stomach and the perforated segment of bowel and then joined my esophagus to what remained of my duodenum._

_With no stomach with which to digest food, a jejunostomy tube or J-tube was inserted through my abdomen into the jejunum, the middle part of the small intestine. I had a lot of issues with dumping syndrome early on during my rehabilitation, and I probably vomited more of the enteral nutrition than I digested. I became rail-thin, and the surgeons created a permanent IV port in my arm to keep me hydrated and to nourish me with TPN._

_Eventually, the nutritionist developed a feeding regime that worked for me. With the help of a feeding pump, I was slowly fed, through the J-tube overnight from 4pm to 8am. Thankfully, as I got older, I was able to increase the feed rate, and consequently, cut back on the amount of time I was stuck at home, hooked up to the feeding pump. I also discovered I was able to tolerate small sips of water, lollipops and small amounts of Jell-o.__  
_  
Removing his gloves, Carlisle then placed both of his hands flat on my abdomen, on either side of the J-tube. He closed his eyes and started taking in slow, deep breaths. I kept as still as possible, barely daring to breathe. The thing that made Carlisle such an esteemed doctor was his gift. He was a Diagnostic. By touching over an area of a person's body, he could visualize what was happening beneath the outer surface of the skin. Depending on the length of contact, and his level of concentration, he could see right down into the marrow of the bones.

"Fortunately, it is just a superficial skin infection, probably Staph, and the tube is still in its correct position. I'll start you on a course of oral broad-spectrum antibiotics, but I'll give you a loading-dose straight away. "

After reapplying gloves, Carlisle turned and grabbed a small bottle of iodine and tipped some of it onto a piece of gauze. He swabbed the liquid around the J-tube site, and my skin and nipples pebbled in response to its coldness. I folded my arms over my boobs, fearing the worn, thin towel would fail to conceal the nipples that were probably hard and pointy enough to cut glass. Grabbing another piece of gauze, he put a cut in the center of it and then guided the J-tube through the small hole. Finally, Carlisle secured the gauze to my skin with some surgical tape.

"You can sit up now if you like," he told me.

I sat up, awkwardly, while trying to maintain some semblance of dignity by holding the inadequate towel over my boobs. He turned away and then walked through the gap in the curtains, leaving me alone. I stood and hastily pulled the top half of my I.L suit back over my upper body. As I did up the front zipper, I turned sideways, and through the gap in the curtains, I watched Carlisle as he headed over to his apothecary cabinet. Opening one of the top drawers, he pulled out a vial. He then pulled out another drawer and grabbed a syringe and needle. Carlisle sat on the corner of his desk, assembled the needle and then drew up the antibiotic into the syringe.

I tossed the small towel into the nearby linen carrier and drew the curtain back. Hoisting myself up to sit on the edge of the examination bed, I then rolled up the sleeve of my I.L suit to give Carlisle access to the IV port in my forearm. Carlisle looked up, confused at first, and then his psyche brimmed with mischief again. He walked over to me with the syringe in one hand and an alcohol wipe in the other, holding them at chest height in front of him. He looked as though he was about to perform radical surgery.

"Unfortunately, for you, _Bella_, this needs to be given intramuscularly." His smirk turned into a wide grin when he saw that I understood the full meaning of his words.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I muttered under my breath in disbelief. I scanned his psyche and saw he was, in fact, telling the truth. I huffed in annoyance and turned my back to him.

Waving a fond farewell to what was left of my fragile dignity; I unzipped my pants and the front of my I.L suit. I pulled them down far enough to expose one of my butt cheeks. I then folded my arms over my boobs. "Okay, I'm ready," I announced.

Carlisle turned and let out a small chuckle.

"Bend over the side of the bed, _Bella_."

I swear I felt my entire body blush tomato-red as I tried to keep the boob slippage situation under control, while gracefully trying to place myself face down, ass up. Once I was in position, I waited for Carlisle to proceed.

And I waited... and waited...

"What are you doing?" I asked accusingly. "Stop staring at my ass, and just get on with it!" I snarled.

"Are you aware that you have a birthmark on your ass, and it is shaped like a pair of lips?"

I let out a moan of embarrassment and Carlisle just giggled with mirth.

"Yeah, yeah, kiss my ass. I've heard it all before. Laugh it up, moron."

This caused Carlisle to burst into gales of laughter, and he was laughing so hard he was almost crying.

As a very young child, my foster mother, Sue, used to tell me I had been kissed there by an angel on the day I was born. It was a cute story back then - but as an adult… not so much.

"Just fucking kill me now," I said muttering into the sheet that lay underneath me."

After a few minutes, Carlisle finally composed himself, but not before I threatened to walk out.

"Relax your butt muscles, Bella, or this is going to hurt," he said, and then he lightly smacked the top of my ass."

"If you smack my ass again, _Doctor_ _Cullen_, I will punch you in the junk so hard that even your great-grandkids are going to be dizzy."

"Okay, okay, but like I said, you need to relax." Carlisle wiped the alcohol swab over my ass and once again my body broke out in goose bumps. "Right… on the count of three-".

There was no "two" or "three". The fucker jabbed me on "one", and I let out a gasp at the unexpected pain. The antibiotic injection was one that had to be given slowly, and Carlisle was thankfully silent while I wallowed in my mortification. Once the needle was removed, Carlisle wiped over the injection site with another alcohol swab and then adjusted my I.L suit and pants so my ass was no longer hanging in the breeze. He moved away and drew the curtain, giving me privacy to get dressed again.

Once I was fully dressed, I stripped the sheet off the examination table and threw it into the linen carrier. I drew the curtain back, and saw Carlisle sitting lazily on his office chair, swiveling the seat from side to side, with the familiar smirk on his face.

"Go on… whatever you are going to say, get it out of your system now so we can get on with our work," I said, resigned to receive another ribbing about my ass or my birthmark.

Instead, he arched one eyebrow and then held up his hand to reveal what he was holding. He held up a small, red object between his thumb and forefinger.

"Does the little girl wanna lollipop for being such a good patient?"

"Why are you always treating me like a child? You're only five years older than me, for God sake."

"Come on, Miss Swan. You know you want it," he teased, waving the lollipop from side to side.

I strode over to him and wordlessly snatched the strawberry lollipop from his grasp, before storming out of his office.

Passing through the doorway, I muttered, "Asshole… Fucking pain in my ass."

"Oh, by the way, I think that as your doctor, I should probably also inform you that your menses will most likely start tomorrow… which probably explains your current emotional status."

"What the- how in the hell would you know?" I accused, because I was incredulous that he was basically accusing me of PMS'ing.

By way of explanation, Carlisle lifted his hands near his face, splayed them and then wiggled his fingers for effect. "The hands don't lie, Miss Swan."

Apart from once again inflicting physical violence, I had no come-back, so I just grabbed the door handle and slammed the door hard enough to rattle the picture frames on the walls.

As I reached my desk chair and sat down, I could still hear Carlisle laughing.

* * *

**A/N Song Inspiration – Barrel Of A Gun by Depeche Mode.**

**Thanks for the kind reviews. I'll reply (eventually) to all who have enabled PM's. It really means a lot to me, and some of your questions have inspired me to add things to the story.**

**Thanks go to FerlaV for pre-reading and giving me encouragement. Thanks also to middlewife for pimping me out on her latest chapter of "Through A Glass, Darkly". You should check it out... its a great story, and it has a very yummy "copward" banner.  
**

**With school holidays starting and an Easter vacation, I can't guarantee this will update within the next two weeks. Fingers crossed my kids will cooperate and give me some time to myself… although I wouldn't hold my breath.**

**B-o-B xxx**

**Go ahead ... make my day**

**l**

**l**

**V**


	4. Watch Me Bleed

**A/N - I don't own Twilight or its characters, I just own this plot.  
**

**My 4 year old son, ever so kindly decided to share his cold with me (meaning I couldn't go into work *boohoo*). I wrote this (from my death bed) and was probably high on cough medicine. Please excuse any errors. **

* * *

_As I reached my desk chair and sat down, I could still hear Carlisle laughing._

_-oo0oo-  
_

**Watch Me Bleed**

_Friday April 13th 2412_

After my minor hissy-fit, the rest of the morning was fairly uneventful. Carlisle and I returned to our usual rapport, displaying nothing but professionalism in front of the clients. It had been a relatively quiet day. Between appointments, Carlisle had retreated to the confines of his office to work on god-only-knows-what.

Carlisle had been somewhat secretive about his latest research project. Previously, he had always kept an open door between us when we were alone in the clinic. Sometimes he'd call me into his office to help him to prepare slides as he examined specimens through the microscope. At other times, he would ask me to help him find articles from the rows and rows of antique medical journals that were stored on the floor-to-ceiling shelves lining the walls of the back office. And then there were times when Carlisle would explain to me in detail what he was working on, and would ask for my opinions.

Rather than dwell on the matter, I occupied myself by rereading an old romance novel and then chatted online with my best friend. Angela was the perfect picture of a healthy, glowing, pregnant woman. It didn't take an Empath, to know she was overjoyed with her pregnancy and head-over-heels in love with her husband, Ben. Angela and I giggled hysterically as she recounted how Ben, an agricultural scientist, had managed to sneak them into one of the glass-domed biospheres the previous night.

Ben had apparently blindfolded her and then guided her into the middle of a cornfield. He had set up a romantic picnic, complete with bottled sparkling water, candles and music. Angela even went so far as to tell me that they'd almost been caught by one of the Volturi patrols, having just made love on the picnic blanket, under the stars. Thankfully, Ben had managed to intercept the guard before he found his way to the picnic site, and a half-naked Angela.

Angela recounted that to any onlooker, she would have looked like a turtle stuck on its back, as she awkwardly rolled from side to side in a frantic struggle to get the pants of her I.L. suit back on. Ben had flashed the guard his credentials and gave him some questionable excuses as to why he was in the middle of a cornfield at midnight. Fortunately, for Ben and Angela, the guard was either lazy or not too bright. Firstly, he believed Ben's lame explanation about conducting an experiment to see if music would enhance the growth rate and flavor of corn; and secondly, he didn't even seem to notice Ben was shoeless and wearing his sweater inside out.

Angela was in the middle of telling me how pregnancy hormones were playing havoc with her libido, when Carlisle opened his office door. Angela knew this was her cue to sign off, but Carlisle managed to come around to my side of the desk, before she could turn off her web-cam.

"Hey, Angela! How are you going?" Carlisle asked.

"I'm doing great," she answered shyly, "I'm over the morning sickness, so no complaints at this point."

"Are you still working as a midwife over at the hospital or have you stopped to take some time off," he asked with friendly curiosity.

"I'm still working for now. I'm only a few months along, and I'm managing to cope with the workload. I'll stop when I start getting too tired… I promise."

"Good girl." Carlisle smiled and then winked at her. "So my offer still stands, did you want to know the gender of the baby yet?"

"Stop teasing me. Just because you know, and I don't."

Angela, like Carlisle, was a Diagnostic. Unfortunately, it was a gift they were unable to utilize on themselves. When Angela and Ben had first suspected that she was pregnant, they went to Carlisle for a diagnosis. Carlisle was more than happy to help out his one-time love and close friend. Not only was he able to confirm she was pregnant, he was also able to discern the sex of the baby. Angela and Ben were adamant they wanted to keep the gender a surprise, and they swore Carlisle to secrecy. True to his word, he'd not told a soul. I'd tried to wheedle the truth from him on several occasions, but he just gave me ridiculous answers instead.

"Okay, well don't overdo it, and I'll catch up with you in a few weeks time for your next appointment. I want to recheck your hemoglobin level to see if the iron tablets are helping to correct the anemia," Carlisle said, going back to his concerned doctor persona."

"Yes, sir." Angela gave him a mock-salute and then smiled brightly. "Anyway, Bella, I'd better get going. I'll see you after work sometime next week, and maybe we can go out to that new water bar in Alexandria… my shout. Just let me know which night suits you best."

"Okay, sure, I'll let you know on Monday night. Bye, Angela," I singsonged my farewell.

"Bye-eeee," she singsonged in return before finally signing off.

I turned to Carlisle, who was checking the planner. There were no more scheduled appointments for the rest of the day, and we would just be dealing with any emergencies that came in.

"I've just been informed I've got a VP patient coming in just before one o'clock. I don't want you in the office when they bring him in, so take a long lunch today, okay?

"Uh… yeah, sure," I said, feeling confused. Carlisle had never before asked me to leave the clinic when the guards from Volterra Prison escorted a patient into the clinic. Scanning his psyche, I saw a bewildering array of emotions.

_Excitement. Determination. Hope. Fear._

Carlisle looked at me, realizing I was aware that something out of the ordinary was happening. "Trust me, Miss Swan. Please, just trust me. You shouldn't be here when this person comes in."

"Is he dangerous?" I asked with some concern.

"Some would say that..." He cryptically added, "I guess it just depends on who you are." He then gave me a strange, enigmatic smile.

I looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost midday. "It's been quiet. Do you mind if I take off ten minutes early for lunch?" I asked.

"Sure. Are you meeting Emmett for lunch today?"

On any other day, the answer for this question would have been, "Of course I am, Captain Obvious!" Emmett and I usually had lunch together, Monday to Friday. I think in some ways he did it to punish himself, as if he needed to serve some sort of penance for the day I got injured.

"No, I'm actually meeting with Rosalie today." I went on to explain, "Emmett is meeting up with someone from Volturi Headquarters to discuss salvaging stasis tubes or something. Rosalie called about an hour ago to tell me to meet with her instead."

"Well, send her my regards, Miss Swan. Have a nice lunch with your sister-in-law and I'll see you back here at around one-thirty, okay?"

"Sure, will do."

"Here… take this. I made it up for you so that you can start the course straight after lunch." I looked at the bottle he'd handed me. It felt cool to the touch and was filled with a pink, viscous liquid. It was my antibiotic syrup. "The dose is ten mils, three times a day until complete. You can take it orally, or you can use a syringe and infuse it through your J-tube. If I were you, I'd use the tube as it has a slightly bitter after-taste."

"Thanks, Carlisle," I said, and I gave him a warm hug. "Thanks for taking such good care of me."

"Any time, Miss Swan." Carlisle gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and turned toward his office.

After collecting my tote bag and winter wear from my locker, I made my way to the transporter bay. There was a skidoo taxi rank in which four drivers and their vehicles were waiting in line. I climbed onto the back of a skidoo and told the driver to head to the ESME facility.

The five minute journey from FORKS to ESME was a bone-jarring, white-knuckle ride. The skidoo driver seemed hell-bent on hitting every single snow drift at high speed, thereby launching us into the air and landing us hard on the snow below, over and over until I felt my teeth were going to shatter within my skull. After dismounting the skidoo, I walked, on wobbly legs, toward the main entrance. I passed the large, elegant sign that read:

**E.S.M.E.**

_Extra-Sensory Metencephalon Expeditions._

_We hope you enjoy your experience._

**E. and R.L. McCarty - Proprietors.**

The automatic doors of the main entrance opened before me, and I welcomed the rush of warm air on my half-frozen face as I stepped into the plush foyer. I waved a quick hello to Embry, one of the ESME private security guards as I walked over to the front desk. Tanya Denali was the assistant manning the reception desk today, and she looked flustered and annoyed.

"Where the hell did I put it?" Tanya complained. Her back was turned to me, and she was picking up various files and pieces of paper in search of something. At one point, she got down on the floor and stuck her head under the desk. Her ass was jutting out, and it was an opportunity that was too good to pass.

From the front counter, I picked up a square, ostentatious beverage coaster with the ESME logo stamped into its metal surface. With a quick flick of my wrist, I tossed it like a ninja throwing star. I may have done a little fist pump, and mouthed a silent, _'Yes_!' when it hit Tanya squarely on the ass.

"_Hey_!" Tanya yelled in surprise, and then her head made a satisfying _'THUNK'_ sound as it hit the underside of the desk. "_Ouch_," she whined as she backed out on hands and knees. She was rubbing both her ass and the back of her head as she scrambled to her feet. Tanya's usually perfectly coiffed blonde hair was now looking disheveled and ridiculous. "Oh… it's just _you_," she sneered. "I should have known... I thought I smelled a foul stench."

To say that Tanya and I hated each other would be an understatement.

_When I was twelve, the Clearwater family moved us from the compound in Tanta to Alexandria so I could be closer to the medical facilities there. From the day I first started at the new school, Tanya and her little band of sycophants had made my life hell. For some reason, they got it into their heads that having a J-tube also meant I needed to, "shit in a bag." Whenever they came near me, they would hold their noses in disgust and look accusingly at me. Emmett, Leah, and Seth had always come to my rescue. They would set the record straight with the other kids, but Tanya and her cronies had continued to taunt me on a daily basis, right up until the day we finished high school. _

_From reading her psyche, I was aware of her reason for picking on me. Her father, Eleazer Denali, was the Chief Warden of Volterra Prison; my father, Charlie, was an inmate. Eleazer was a strict disciplinarian when it came to his daughter, and he would often put her down in public; Tanya, therefore, transferred her 'daddy issues' onto me because she believed I was weaker than she was; I was an easy target. The day I discovered I had been accepted to train as a nurse at Alexandria General, and Tanya had been rejected, was a time of personal vindication. I had managed to succeed in the career of my choosing, whereas Tanya was stuck doing the filing for my brother and his wife with no prospects for promotion. _

_I'm a firm believer in Karma._

"Sticks and stones, Tanya, sticks and stones, I answered nonchalantly."

Just as Tanya was about to chew me a new one, Rosalie appeared in the doorway of her office and started yelling at her for not being able to find an invoice she needed. I backed away from the reception desk and took a seat in the waiting area, happy to watch the show play out in front of me. When Rosalie winked at me, I knew she had heard how Tanya had spoken to me, and she wasn't about to put up with any of Tanya's bullshit… even if I did start it.

When Tanya finally found the invoice, she hurriedly handed it over to Rosalie. She murmured apologies for the delay and promised that it wouldn't happen again. Rosalie motioned for me to join her in her office, and I quickly leapt up to follow her. As I passed by Tanya, I heard her muttering profanities at me, low enough that only I could hear them. As I turned to close the door, I sneered, mouthed the word _'loser'_ and then flipped her the bird.

"Honestly, I don't know why you guys keep her on," I complained as I took a seat near Rosalie's desk and proceeded to take off my winter wear.

"Blame Emmett, you know how much of a softy he is. He seems to think everyone deserves a second chance - even evil bitches. The only reason I haven't put my foot down and fired Tanya yet is because I secretly love lording it over her." Rosalie giggled evilly.

"So what is this meeting Emmett has with the Volturi about?" I asked as I removed a container of enteral feed and a syringe from my tote bag. I placed them on the desk and then untucked my shirt from my pants. Discretely reaching up under my shirt, I undid the front zipper of my I.L. suit, so I could access my J-tube.

"Emmett heard the Volturi were planning to dismantle some of the old Space Arks to salvage them for scrap metal. He wants to buy up more stasis tubes, so he can convert them and use them for our rent-by-the-hour venture. Business is really booming, and the twenty tanks we have here are usually booked out weeks in advance. We hate having to turn people away," Rosalie explained while opening her sandwich.

I shook my head in amusement as I began to syringe the enteral feed slowly into my J-tube.

"You know, when we were kids, living back in Tanta, I remember how Emmett had always said he wanted to become something noble, like a doctor, a scientist or a teacher, and yet here he is today, selling virtual sex to the masses. I giggled and then continued. "You should just go ahead and change the second 'E' in E.S.M.E. from 'expedition' to 'erotica'… truth in advertising and all..."

"Ha-ha, very funny, little Miss pretends-to-be-a-prude. You can't tell me that you haven't been using the toy I secretly gave you for your last birthday. I'm still waiting for a thank you note. I'm certain you are just as red-blooded as most of the women around here." Rosalie arched her eyebrow and gave me a knowing smirk. I poked my tongue at her in response. "I mean... working around a major hottie like Carlisle Cullen must be torture for a single girl like you." Rosalie waved her hand in front of her face, fanning it, as though she was about to swoon."

"It's not like that, and you know it," I mumbled, feeling embarrassed. "We're just friends… he's not interested in me in a romantic way. I'm more like the little sister he never had, and I'm okay with that."

"I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't mean to tease you," Rosalie said, and I could see the guilt as it radiated from her.

"I know. It's okay. By the way, Carlisle sends his regards."

We continued with our lunches and Rosalie went on to explain that they were about to beta-test some new expeditions to add to their long-stay packages. She was in the middle of telling me all about an expedition that would emulate a stay at the 21st century Disney World Resort, including all the theme parks and rides, when Emmett walked through the office doorway.

"We got 'em, babe!" he announced loudly. He dropped his briefcase on the ground and then lumbered his way over to Rosalie. He lifted her up off the chair and twirled her in a hug. "I managed to score about five-hundred tubes and got them for a great price. The guy practically begged me to take them off his hands," he said excitedly.

"Five-hundred tubes? What in the hell are we going to do with five-hundred?" Rosalie protested. "More importantly, where are we going to put five-hundred stasis tubes?" Rosalie continued with some concern etched on her face.

Emmett was in no way disappointed or surprised by Rosalie's reaction. I could see he was expecting it. He knew her so well.

"We're gonna franchise, babe. People are traveling for miles and miles to come here. For a start, I thought we might open another facility in the East and then if that one is successful, maybe we'll branch out even further. As of next week, I'll be away for about a month. I'm going to head over to Port Said to help with the salvage process, and then I'm going to scout out locations to see where we can set up another facility."

When the realization dawned on her, Rosalie's face lit up like Christmas. As Emmett and Rosalie chattered excitedly about the expansion of the business, I syringed in the last few mils of the enteral feed; I followed it with the antibiotic and then to ensure the tube didn't become blocked, I flushed it with twenty mils of water. As I was packing my supplies into my bag, their conversation paused, and Emmett finally acknowledged me.

"Hey, sis, I'm really sorry I missed lunch, but as you heard the meeting was really crucial for the business."

"It's okay, Em. You are allowed to have a life separate from me, you know. I know how important ESME is to you. You don't have to spend your lunches with me every day." At my statement, I saw a ripple of hurt pass through Emmett, and I instantly regretted what I had said. He must have thought I didn't want to spend time with him. "What I mean to say is, while I love catching up with you, if you have something more pressing to attend to, or if you ever just want to have lunch with Rosalie, I'll understand; I'm a big girl."

At this explanation, Emmett seemed appeased that I wasn't rejecting him outright.

_After the accident, Emmett had become extremely clingy and would start to fret whenever I was out of sight. When I first came home from the hospital, he would sneak into my room at night and sleep on the floor next to my bed. Eventually, Sue just asked Harry to move Emmett's bed into my room. It was okay for a while, but by age thirteen, I was 'developing' and I began to feel a bit smothered by his constant presence. I asked him to move back into his own room and to go out and find some new friends. _

_Emmett hadn't bothered to make any new friends when we'd moved from Tanta. __Apart from Leah and Seth, he hadn't hung around anyone that wasn't family._ Gradually, after a lot of persuading, Emmett accepted that I wasn't going to shatter into a million pieces if he left me alone once in a while. He began to hang around with some of the local boys who rode solar quad-bikes, which is how he met Jasper Hale. Jasper taught Emmett to ride, and that summer, they became best friends. It was through Jasper that Emmett met and fell in love with Rosalie.

_I first met Rosalie when I was fifteen. Rosalie and her parents, Charles and Lillian Hale, had moved from Karak to Alexandria to be closer to Jasper and his father. Jasper's mom had just passed away, and Lillian became a mother figure to him. Alistair Hale, Jasper's dad, tended to travel around quite a bit. Alistair - like jasper - was an Eraser; he had the ability to adjust memories. He worked as a grief counselor, helping people to get over their loss by removing the parts of their memories that were too painful to bear; to make it as if the person they grieved for never existed. I got the impression 'grief counseling' wasn't the vocation that caused __Alistair_ to travel so much. There was something very secretive about him.  


_Charles Hale, Rosalie's father, was a Neuroscientist, and it was he who had come up with the first E.S.M.E concept. Initially, he started out with two antique claw-foot bath tubs as his stasis tanks. His preliminary subjects, Jasper and Emmett, got to share in the virtual experience of an African hunting safari that was set in the late part of the 20th century. _

_The whole expedition only lasted two hours, but it was successful beyond initial expectations. Emmett and Jasper had recounted how they had felt as though they were actually on a real safari. They explained in detail the sights, sounds, textures and scents they experienced as they walked through the tall grasses of the savannah. They excitedly recalled the heart-pounding adrenaline rush they felt as they trailed along with a safari guide, stalking a pride of lions with their guns and binoculars. When Emmett, in an attempt to impress his girlfriend's father, presented Charles with two new expeditions he had written, they both saw a business opportunity. That was six years ago, and the rest, as they say, is history._

"Well, I bought something for you while I was out… a treat. It's my way of apologizing for not being here for lunch," Emmett announced. He walked back to his briefcase and picked it up. Putting the case on the desk, he opened it to reveal six Jell-o cups - three green and three red. "They are probably a little runny right now, but put them in the refrigerator, and they'll set again, as good as new," he said sheepishly.

I was so overwhelmed by Emmett's generosity that at first, I couldn't speak. Due to their high water content, six Jell-o cups wouldn't have come cheap. I turned and gave Emmett a big hug which surprised him. His relief at my acceptance of his gift, without my usual protests, was palpable, and he hugged me warmly in return.

"Thanks, Em," I said into his chest. Emmett then playfully pulled on the back of my braid, and quickly shied away before I could retaliate. He was laughing. "You really know how to spoil a special moment, big brother," I said jokingly. "Anyone want some Jell-o for dessert?"

Both Emmett and Rosalie shook their heads at my offer, so I grabbed my tote bag and placed the Jell-o cups inside it. Pulling on my winter wear, Emmett asked Embry to organize one of his drivers to take me back to FORKS. Both Emmett and Rosalie escorted me to the undercover parking area at the back of the facility to meet with my transport. Tanya did her best to pretend that I didn't exist, but I still managed to see her give me the evil side-eye as we walked past her desk.

"So… with you expanding your porn empire, when do _I_ get to try out one of these new rent-by-the-hour tubes," I asked jokingly, as I walked along behind Emmett and Rosalie down the narrow hallway.

Emmett and Rosalie both answered simultaneously, "After you're married!" Emmett was being serious; Rosalie was lying through her teeth, and the fact that she had her fingers crossed behind her back, cemented what her psyche had already told me.

The skidoo ride back to FORKS was much less bone-shattering as Stephan, Emmett's personal driver, managed to navigate our way at a gentler pace, avoiding the snow drifts whenever possible.

As I opened the door of the medical clinic, I could hear unfamiliar male voices coming from Carlisle's office.

_"Hurry up! If anyone sees us here, we're going to end up beheaded."_

_"Shut up, and just give me ten more minutes."_

_"We don't have that long. Let's just take him with us."_

_"We can't… Not like this."_

I then heard a strangled gasp, and a wet coughing sound. Recalling that Carlisle had warned me of a dangerous patient coming into the clinic, I began to suspect something had gone horribly wrong. I raced over to my desk and lifted the telephone receiver. Just as I was about to summon the FORKS security guards, the door to Carlisle's office burst open. From my position, I looked up and saw a broad-shouldered man with closely cropped hair and dark skin, standing in the doorway. He was wearing the uniform of a Volterra Prison guard, and I almost felt relief at the sight of him, until he spoke.

"_Shit_!" the man swore, and he launched himself over my desk. I immediately hit the star button, twice, which was the panic code for the FORKS facility. He grabbed my wrist and slammed the receiver down on the edge of the desk, forcing me to release it from my grip. "What did you just do? Who the fuck did you call?" he yelled at me.

To hell with Empathic abilities! Even a blind person could have seen this guy was the epitome of rage.

Steeling myself for whatever violence he was about to inflict, I yelled, "The guards! They'll be on their way, asshole."

Captured by my wrists, I struggled with the man as he roughly pulled me from behind the desk. He embraced me, pinning my back to his chest and my arms to my sides. He then lifted me, kicking and screaming, to the doorway of Carlisle's office. Beyond him, I saw a strange white light coming from the vicinity of the examination bed.

"There's no time left, brother. We've got to go, now! This bitch called the guards, and now they're on their way." He then grunted in pain as the back of my skull hit him squarely in the face. He suddenly released me from his vice-like embrace to grasp his nose with one hand, but he still held tightly to my forearm with the other one. I tried to twist out of his grip and attempted to kick him.

"Nooooooooooo," the voice of the other man moaned, from behind the curtain. "Not like this."

As I continued to struggle with my captor, I heard a low, strained voice and a gurgling sound. The strange white glow seemed to intensify.

The dark-skinned man dragged me into the office by my wrist then released me with a harsh shove that caused me to stumble into the middle of the room. He turned to lock the door and then upended Carlisle's desk in front of it to barricade us in. Rushing over to the examination bed, he roughly hauled the other man out from behind the curtain. A sudden white glow temporarily blinded me and then disappeared in an instant. When my eyes adjusted from the sudden glare, I saw the other man was tall and pale with eyes that were a bright, blue color. He had a scruffy beard and long, jet-black hair that fell past his shoulders. Beginning from the hairline, on the right side of his forehead, a one-inch streak of white hair swept over his head from the front to the back. He was wearing the distinctive fluorescent overalls of a Volterra inmate, and his hands were coated in blood. The multitude of emotions that emanated from him, struck me so hard, that the fight left my body, and I almost doubled over from their intensity.

_Frustration. Regret. Sadness. Hopelessness. Loss. Pain. Love._

I was confused. _Love_?

From that moment, things seemed to move in a blur. I remembered screaming and racing over to the examination table. Carlisle was lying there, and his neck and chest were covered in the blood that had come from a wound that was sliced across his neck; however, the bleeding had somehow already been staunched. Even so, from the nearby linen carrier, I grabbed the small towel I had used during my appointment, and I held it over the wound on his neck. I frantically checked for a pulse, but found it was irregular and weak.

In the background, the two men were yelling frantically at each other, trying to agree on a method of escape. The man with the long hair had wanted to take Carlisle with them, but the other man was adamant he would just slow them down. Finally, the dark-skinned man picked up Carlisle's high-backed office chair and threw it out of the window. The sound of the shattering glass momentarily drew my gaze from Carlisle, and I watched as he leapt out of the second-story window. The long-haired man paused on the edge of the windowsill and stared at me stonily.

"I blame you," was his parting statement as he leapt out.

Turning my face back to Carlisle, my eyes were met with his beautiful blue gaze.

"Stay with me, Carlisle. No, don't you dare close your eyes, stay with me. Help is on its way," I sobbed.

Carlisle shook his head, and then appeared to swallow with an extreme effort. He coughed a few times, and a small rivulet of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. I wiped at the blood with the edge of the towel. Carlisle coughed once more. His voice rasped, and it was so low, I had to put my ear right in front of his mouth in order to hear him.

"This wasn't what you think it was, Bella. Don't-".

The rest of what he was trying to tell me was drowned out by the sound of four security guards as they smashed their way through the locked door of the office. The last word I understood was, "Alice..."

I begged Carlisle to repeat what he had just told me, but he just closed his eyes. The guards yelled at me, ordering me to back away from the examination bed and to put my hands in the air where they could see them. Defiantly, I ignored them and continued to feel for a carotid pulse; that was when one of the fuckers must have put a taser on the back of my neck.

_-oo0oo-_

I awoke, feeling groggy, cold and sore, and I noted I was only dressed in my I.L. suit. The sounds that had brought me to consciousness were the angry voice of my brother, Emmett, and the clanking of metal against metal as keys were turned in a heavy lock. Emmett's anger was directed at the guards because they had apparently rendered me unconscious with a taser and then imprisoned me, like a common criminal. He argued that I was obviously a victim of circumstances. As soon as the heavy metal door was opened, Emmett rushed to my side and quickly helped me to stand upright. I hugged him in relief and then sobbed into his chest.

When I finally gathered myself enough to speak, I said just one word.

"Carlisle?"

One look at Emmett told me the truth.

Carlisle was dead.

* * *

**A/N  
**

**:( **

**Yeah, sorry 'bout that... I forgot to mention I'm not Ms. Meyer, and I will dare to do the unthinkable to a character that I (and hopefully you) adored, in order to enhance the plot. Not sure I will do it again in this story, but I'm not making any promises.**

**Thanks for the kind reviews. I truly do appreciate them, and some of your questions inspire me to add things to the story. Hopefully, I have replied to all who have enabled PM's.**

**Thanks go to FerlaV for pre-reading and giving me encouragement. **

******Song inspirations: **

**- Watch Me Bleed by Scary Kids Scaring Kids.**

**- The World Of Sleaze - Regurgitator**

**Will update sometime in the future.**

**B-o-B xxx**

**Go ahead ... make my day**

**l**

**l**

**V**


	5. Scared Of The Police

**A/N - I don't own Twilight or its characters; I just own this plot… although, I sometimes think I must have lost the plot completely. Sorry this took longer than planned to update, and I have a bazillion excuses, but I won't bore you with the fine details. **

* * *

_One look at Emmett told me the truth._

_Carlisle was dead._

-oo0oo-

**Scared Of The Police**

_Friday April 13th 2412__ (I think)_

"Come this way," a guard dressed in a gray uniform gruffly commanded.

Emmett slowly released me from his embrace. He held out his hand to me, and I grasped on to it tightly as we exited the holding cell. We walked along behind the guard, and two more guards brought up the rear. Our footsteps on the grimy tiled floor echoed around us as we walked. From the holding cell, we were led down a harshly lit, beige-walled corridor to a conference room. The guard unlocked the door and then ushered us in wordlessly with a sideways nod.

The walls of the conference room, like the corridor, were similarly beige in color; however, unlike the cold corridor, the room had a warm ambience due to the down-lights softly illuminating the conference table in the center of the room. Plush chocolate-colored carpet dampened the sounds of our footfalls. The walls were lined with polished wooden cabinets with glass doors. Inside the cabinets were rows and rows of black-colored binders with dates scrawled on their spines. There were no windows, skylights or clocks in the room. I had no idea of the time.

Was it daytime or night? Was it still even Friday? How long had I been unconscious?

Reflexively, I looked at my right wrist only to discover my watch, too, had been taken from me.

The large, black, oval shaped table was surrounded by eight molded-plastic chairs. Sitting in one of the chairs was a thin, middle-aged, balding man who was inspecting his skinny, burgundy-colored tie. He was facing the doorway, and I could see a visitor's I.D. badge clipped to the front lapel of his charcoal gray suit. It identified him as 'Mr. Jason Jenks - Attorney At Law'. I watched as the man removed a black leather glove from his right hand. I blanched as soon as I comprehended who he was.

"Emmett!" I hissed. "Why in the hell do I need a lawyer? Have I been charged? I didn't do anything wrong!"

All my life, I'd harbored a distrust and hatred of the law, a hatred that extended to lawyers. Since resettlement, there was no such principle regarding judicial independence and the separation of powers. Cops, lawyers, law makers and prisons - basically, The Volturi ran it all, and they got away with it. Charlie had told me the story, of how he and Renee had been poorly represented because they were unable to afford a top-notch attorney. They'd been saddled with a sleazy, incompetent, court-appointed lawyer by the name of Afton, who was known to be in the back pocket of the FORKS hierarchy. They had both ended up with the maximum penalty. I'd always thought it a shame, that like the cockroaches and Readers Digest - lawyers had also managed to survive the asteroid apocalypse.

"I know that, Sis, but I want to make sure this interview is conducted properly. Jenks is the best in the business. He'll make sure you don't say anything that could be misconstrued. For now this is meant to be a routine witness interview, but as you were the only one in the room with Carlisle when the guards entered his office, it's not hard to guess you'll be seen as a suspect."

"But I was the one who called them in the first place!" I said defensively, as Emmett ushered me further into the room, directing me toward a chair situated on the opposite side of the table from the lawyer.

"Hello, Miss Swan. My name is Jason Jenks," the lawyer said as he stood and held out his right hand to shake in greeting.

I just stared at the man's hand, refusing to touch it. It was fairly common for people with the Empathic ability to enter legal or law enforcement professions. I knew from reputation that Jason Jenks was an Empath. I knew Jenks wasn't merely holding his hand out in a friendly greeting; he wanted to read me. He left his hand hanging in mid-air, for a few seconds in expectation, before finally giving up and sitting down again.

Most Empaths can only utilize their ability if they come into direct skin-to-skin contact. However, I'm different from every other Empath I've ever met. I have no such limitation for my gift… or convenient buffer. Should I ever accidentally end up in a crowded environment, an unwelcome emotional onslaught could overwhelm me with the force of a tsunami.

"I'm here to represent your best interests during the interview." I noted he appeared sincere in wishing to assist me. I guess the exorbitant amount of money Emmett was probably paying him was a strong enough incentive. "I'll just need to get some information from you regarding the events that took place earlier today." He leaned over and took out a legal pad and pen from a black briefcase that sat on the seat beside him.

I sat in the chair in front of Jenks, and Emmett took the seat next to me. The guard turned and left the room, closing the door behind him and locking it.

-oo0oo-

Emmett and I sat and spoke with Jenks for thirty minutes, before a guard returned to indicate that Emmett needed to leave the room. I was about to be formally interviewed. Emmett gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and stood to leave. Jenks asked me to change seats, so I would be next to him during the interview. As I stood to change places, I shivered slightly from the cold, as my I.L. suit did nothing to provide any warmth. According to Jenks, my clothes were still being held as 'evidence'. Emmett must have noticed, because he took off his black, pin-striped suit jacket and placed it over my shoulders. I momentarily snuggled into the borrowed warmth of the jacket and then gratefully kissed Emmett on the cheek. Looking at Emmett, I could see he was feeling helpless and fearful of what was going to happen when he was out of the room. He'd be unable to protect me.

"It'll be fine, Em. Stop worrying so much," I cajoled, with false bravado.

"Just don't say anything, unless Jenks says it's okay," he instructed and then gave me a kiss on the forehead, before leaving with a guard.

Shortly after Emmett left, two men entered the room. One of the men appeared to be in his mid-forties. He was wearing a blue uniform with the FORKS Security logo stitched on the upper-left hand side of his shirt. He was holding a thick manila folder in his hands. I vaguely recognized him as being one of the guards who had stormed into Carlisle's office, before I'd wrongfully been tasered into unconsciousness. The name 'F. Santiago' was stitched on the upper-right hand side of his shirt, and I scowled in displeasure at seeing him again. The guard returned my stare and then lowered his eyes to take in my body, clad only by the skin-tight undergarment. His gaze lingered unabashedly on my breasts. His psyche revealed he was feeling smug, confident and lascivious. He fancied himself to be a dominant male, a predator, and he made my skin crawl in revulsion. Feeling exposed under his leering gaze, I drew Emmett's jacket further around my body for protection. He smirked at my response, mistaking my shudder of disgust for one of sexual arousal.

The other man was younger - possibly in his early thirties. He was tall, remarkably handsome, well-built and was dressed in a tailored black suit with a crisp white shirt. He looked decidedly self-important, and there wasn't a single visible wrinkle on the expensive outfit that perfectly framed his physique. His psyche gave off an air of annoyance and superiority. Considering his lack of wrinkles, I briefly wondered whether the man ever sat down. Then I mused that the reason he didn't sit down was because the guy probably had a huge stick up his ass; it would definitely explain the pinched expression he wore on his face. I briefly averted my gaze to look down at my hands, afraid he would see the barely concealed smirk that was trying to break out into a grin from my silly, nervous thoughts. If Emmett had been here, he'd probably be horrified at my lack of respect for this man, whoever he was.

I looked over at Jenks who had a stunned expression on his face, and I watched as he mouthed the words, '_Oh shit'_.

Both men made their way over to the table. Before seating himself, the man in the black-suit removed his jacket and carefully draped it over the back of an unoccupied seat. While removing his gloves, he made their introductions.

"Miss Swan, Mr. Jenks, thank you for your cooperation in this matter. I trust you will answer all of our questions truthfully and expeditiously. We need your assistance to help us determine what occurred today in…," he paused and snatched a small notepad from the shirt pocket of the guard, who flinched slightly in surprise. Glancing at the writing on the pad, he continued, "…Doctor Carlisle Cullen's office." He carelessly tossed the pad back to the guard who comically fumbled it. Once the guard finally gained a firm grip on the notepad, he then resumed a feigned semblance of control. "This gentleman on my right is Lieutenant Felix Santiago of FORKS Security, and I'm Police Commissioner, Riley Biers."

At the sound of his name, my heart leapt into my throat, and my pulse began to race.

_Oh shit, indeed! What the fuck is going on?_

Why on Earth would the Police Commissioner be present if this was just a routine witness interview? Suddenly, the idea of having Jenks on 'Team Bella' no longer seemed like such a bad idea. I turned again to Jenks to ask for an explanation, but he appeared to be as confused as I was.

The Commissioner finally sat in the seat directly opposite. While staring at me intently, he tossed his gloves onto the table in front of us, as though he was throwing down the gauntlet. Despite his calm and handsome face, I felt the hairs at the back of my neck standing on end in fear. As he proceeded to roll up the cuffs of his shirt, exposing a pair of muscular forearms, his psyche revealed him to be a ruthless man with very little patience. He extended his right arm forward, along the top of the table, and then turned his hand over so his palm faced upward.

I turned to look at Jenks, who gave me a silent gesture to indicate I should cooperate and allow myself to be read by Commissioner Biers. Reluctantly, I extended my arm and placed my hand on top of his palm, noting for the first time, the traces of blood around my finger nails.

_Carlisle's blood._

Immediately, Biers placed his left hand over the top of mine, trapping it in his grasp. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, and I watched as his forehead creased in concentration. After a minute or two, he seemed to radiate confusion and opened his eyes to glare at me before speaking.

"Give me your other hand," he ordered.

I extended my other hand, and Biers once again grasped onto it with both hands. Closing his eyes, his face furrowed as he again tried to read me. This time, Biers became extremely frustrated, and I had no idea why. Obviously, I wasn't giving him the answers he wanted, and he released my hand and shoved it away with a huff of irritation. He reached over to pick up the manila folder that Lieutenant Santiago had set down on the table. Turning a few of the pages, he came to a sheet of paper that appeared to have my name at the top of the page and my FORKS I.D. photograph. He briefly examined the document before looking up at me.

"I see here from your employee record, Miss Swan, you are an Empath, I-".

"Excuse me Commissioner, but how is this relevant to your investigation?" Jenks said, finally finding his voice and cutting Biers off mid-sentence. "I thought the purpose of Miss Swan being here today was to ask for her version of the events surrounding the death of Doctor Cullen, not to discuss her ability as an Empath."

"I'm asking, Mr. Jenks, because, as a Telepath I seem to be unable to hear Miss Swan's mind. I was wondering if she's forthcoming of any other talents she possesses. For only the second time in my life, I am unable to read a mind. Her thoughts are veiled from me, and I wish to know if she is doing it on purpose."

A frisson of fear raced through me, and I shook my head in denial of his accusation.

"I'm not doing anything on purpose. I'm an Empath, and I can see emotions and get a general idea of what people are feeling - that's all," I said defensively. I didn't bother to elaborate that physical contact in order to utilize my ability was unnecessary. I wasn't going to offer up any information, unless I absolutely had to.

"Well… it seems we will have to conduct this interview the old fashioned way," he said resignedly. Biers ordered Santiago to fetch what was required, and a few minutes later, he returned, producing a small digital recording device from his pocket. Biers set the recorder on the table between us and pressed a button. "Interview with Miss Isabella Swan. Present with Miss Swan, is Commissioner Riley Biers, Lieutenant Felix Santiago of FORKS security, and Mr. Jason Jenks, legal representative of Miss Swan. The time is…," he looked at his watch, "… five-forty-five PM, Friday the thirteenth, twenty-four-twelve. Now, Miss Swan... I would like you to tell me everything that occurred today, from the time you commenced work right up until the time the guards found you when your hands were around Doctor Cullen's throat."

I blanched at the Commissioner's insinuation I was guilty, simply because I was in the room when the guards had burst in. I turned to Jenks who just nodded for me to go on. We had already discussed the timeline of events and how I would present the facts when interviewed.

"Well… I arrived at work with Carl- err - Doctor Cullen at about eight o'clock this morning," I began.

I recounted most of the events of the morning, only leaving out the finer details of my interactions with Angela and Carlisle - such as when he had injected me with the antibiotic and especially his last words to me. For some reason, something told me to keep that last piece of information to myself even though I still didn't fully understand what he had meant by them.

Commissioner Biers remained silent the whole time I spoke. When I came to the part of my story where I mentioned how I was unfairly tasered by the guards while attempting to check for Carlisle's carotid pulse, I saw Lieutenant Santiago give me a scowl. The Commissioner then flipped through the manila file again. He pulled out a sheaf of grainy photographic images. They appeared to have been taken from the motion-sensitive camera that was situated in the reception area of the clinic.

"Are these the men you saw with Doctor Cullen today?" he asked, handing the pages across the table to me.

On each page of A4 landscape paper, were four black and white images. I looked down at the first page, staring at the now familiar faces of the two men I'd seen in the clinic. The four images detailed the arrival of the two men, and their entry into Carlisle's office. Pages two and three chronicled my return to the clinic, my attempt to dial the phone to call the guards and the attack on me by the dark-skinned man. Page four showed the arrival of the guards, then smashing their way into Carlisle's office.

The photos were taken at fifteen second intervals - one page per minute. I noted the time stamp of the first page, started only two minutes before my photographed arrival at the clinic. To me, this seemed very strange, because I remembered that Carlisle's office had appeared to have been thoroughly ransacked. At the time - when I had been dragged into the office by the dark-skinned man - the state of the room had been the least of my concerns. However, when Jenks had earlier asked me to describe everything I had seen, I had recalled that most of the filing cabinets, cupboards and drawers had been open with their contents strewn about the room.

_How had they managed to subdue Carlisle and injure him without any other signs of defensive wounds? How did they manage to do that and then wreak so much havoc in the office in such a short time? _

The thought also occurred to me that Carlisle's neck wound had been staunched of the bleeding, yet according to Jenks, Carlisle had lost between three and four liters of blood.

_Something's not right._

"Um… do you have any photos from earlier on - like between the time I left for lunch and the appearance of these two men? I asked.

The Commissioner looked at me quizzically; appearing confused as to why I would ask such a question, but nevertheless, instructed Lieutenant Santiago to follow it up.

As we waited for the Lieutenant to return, I quietly asked Jenks if he could ask the Commissioner about the identity of the two men.

Pointing at the images that sat on the table in front of me, Biers obligingly pointed first to the dark-skinned man - the man who had attacked me.

"This person here is not who they appear to be. We believe this person is working for The Resistance, and it's likely he or she is a Shifter. They took on the appearance of a Volterra Prison guard; a man by the name of Tyler Crowley. Mr. Crowley was found unconscious, bound, gagged and parked behind a snow drift not too far from here. He had been supervising part of a prisoner chain gang."

"And this man," I asked, pointing to the image of the man with the strange black hair with the white streak, "is he a Shifter too?

"No he isn't. We have suspected for some time that he is the leader of The Resistance; however, we don't know his real name. The other Volterra inmates referred to the prisoner as 'The Doc', as it's been widely rumored he has healing capabilities; although, none of the guards reported ever witnessing him heal anyone. Since his capture two months ago, we've tried many different ways to get him to talk, but just like you, he is immune to our Telepaths. Somehow, The Resistance managed to orchestrate The Doc's escape. But first, we are just trying to determine why he wanted to kill Carlisle Cullen."

Suddenly, some parts of the puzzle started to fit into place as Carlisle's last words came to me.

_"This wasn't what you think it was, Bella."_

I had automatically assumed that the two men I'd found in the office were the people who had wounded Carlisle and caused his death. Had Carlisle tried to tell me that they weren't the ones responsible?

The man they called 'The Doc', had he been in the process of trying to heal Carlisle when I'd entered the clinic? That might explain the staunched wound. If that was the case, then the words the The Doc had said to me, just before he'd leapt out of the window, were wholly justified.

_"I blame you."_

_I_ was the one responsible for Carlisle's death. Carlisle had been a part of The Resistance, and I'd stopped them from saving him. If I hadn't called the guards, Carlisle would probably still be alive.

I felt nauseous at the possibility that I had unintentionally killed Carlisle. As I fought to control the tears that threatened to spill over, Lieutenant Santiago entered the room carrying two pieces of printed paper.

"You need to take a look at these, sir," he said handing the pages to Commissioner Biers.

The Commissioner stared down at the pages.

_Curiosity. Confusion. Realization. Shock._

"Miss Swan, it appears you have drawn our attention to a new mystery. I wonder… have you ever considered a career in law enforcement?

"I don't know what you mean," I replied.

"It seems we are now dealing with two separate crimes. Take a look at these pictures," Commissioner Biers said, sliding them over to me. "Now, tell me what you see."

I looked at the top page and noted the time stamp of the first shot was 12:51. It showed Carlisle exiting the doorway of his office. The second picture of the set showed Carlisle releasing the lock of the clinic door. The third picture showed Carlisle standing with the door wide open staring at… _something_. The fourth picture showed Carlisle walking back toward his office; the front door of the clinic was closed.

Flipping the page, I looked and saw there were two more photos. What I saw made my blood run cold - or more precisely, it was what I _couldn't_ see.

The door to Carlisle's office was open in the first image, but there was no one captured in the photograph. In the second image, Carlisle's office door was closed, but the front door was wide open; again, no one was photographed in the reception area. The time stamp of the final image was 13:12.

_Someone was in that office for twenty-one minutes… someone who was apparently able to evade the camera._

* * *

**A/N Song Inspiration – Scared Of The Police by Reuben.**

**Thanks for the kind reviews. I'll reply to all who have enabled PM's soon. It really means a lot to me, and some of your questions have inspired me to add things to the story.**

******Some have asked if everyone in this story has special abilities. The answer is no, and those characters who are gifted will (usually) have their ability explained at the time they are introduced to the story.**  


**Thanks go to FerlaV for pre-reading and giving me encouragement. Check out her latest one-shot called "****One Split Second, Forever".** Her new FFN name is Life-In-The-Shape-Of-A-Girl, and you can find her in my **list of **favorite authors .  


**B-o-B xxx**

**Don't forget to feed the author**

**l**

**l**

**V**


	6. You Might As Well Try

**A/N – Twilight… not mine. **

**Edward… not mine. **

**This plot… mine.**

**For me, the scariest part about writing this is being faced with a new blank document for the next chapter and wondering for the millionth time, why on Earth I decided I could ever write a story. **

* * *

_"Take a look at these pictures," Commissioner Biers said, sliding them over to me. _

_"Now, tell me what you see."_

-oo0oo-

**You Might As Well Try To Fuck Me.**

_Friday April 13th 2412 (will this god-awful day ever end?)_

"Um… there was someone else in the room with Carlisle; someone invisible?" I hedged.

"Well, it's either that, or their image was unable to be captured by the camera." There was a lull in the conversation, and I could tell Commissioner Biers hoped I would offer up information about someone I might know who'd have such abilities, but my mind drew a blank. I could see the Commissioner's attitude toward me was softening somewhat. My alibi was irrefutable, so I was no longer a suspect. "Okay, now that we've verified your version of the events, I would like to ask you some questions regarding the murder weapon that was found at the scene."

Commissioner Biers flipped to the back of the manila folder and slid out an eight-by-five inch plastic bag and held it up in front of me. "Have you seen this item before, Miss Swan?" he asked and then placed the bag down on the table.

I picked up the bag and immediately recognized what it was, and I felt sickened at the sight of it. I stared at the once beautiful vintage blade that was marred by smears of Carlisle's blood. It was a Thiers Issard Sabatier straight razor, and it had been manufactured in France during the 1900's. Last spring, a group of illegal junk gypsies had come into town selling the things they had scavenged from the various ruins they had visited during their travels. I had managed to talk the seller down from his starting price of fifty credits. I'd argued that although the razor was nearly 500 years old and still in its original protective case, it needed a lot of restoration work to repair the chipped and scuffed, blue-green abalone scale handle.

"Yes, I bought it last year for Carlisle for his birthday," I said, as I remembered how he had enthusiastically received the gift.

"For what possible reason would you need a straight razor in a medical clinic?" Lieutenant Santiago asked, with a trace of malice and accusation in his tone.

Clearly, he felt I had made him and his security guards appear rash and incompetent when I'd told my story to the Commissioner, so he was going to hold a grudge against me. I was surprised to hear him finally speak up, as until now, he had remained silent and had just stared at me like a man who was chained and dying of thirst; and I was the tempting tall glass of icy water sitting just out of his reach. He was intermittently licking his lips, and his depraved desires leapt at me with an intensity that made me sick. I felt as though I was being sexually assaulted.

"To shave hair, obviously!" I retorted, and I fought an urge to add the word 'moron' to the end of my statement, even as I caught the tell-tale beginnings of a smile turn up the corners of Commissioner Biers' mouth. I could see the Commissioner was just as unimpressed with Lieutenant Santiago as I was, and I had an idea that after this interview, heads might roll – figuratively speaking, of course.

"Carlisle performed several different minor surgical procedures on an out-patient basis, and we'd used the straight razor to prepare incision sites. Some procedures require the skin to be hair-free, to reduce the risk of wound contamination and infection," I explained somewhat condescendingly.

"Well, why didn't he just use a disposable razor then?" Lieutenant Santiago argued.

"Have you ever tried to shave your own balls before?" I asked in irritation, realizing too late that my question might get me into a lot of trouble; however, I was beyond caring. I was too cold, tired, sore and emotional, and this fucktard was treading on my last nerve. "Some people are very, very hairy and to use a disposable razor is tedious and takes too long. Carlisle and I performed a lot of vasectomies, and not everyone was considerate enough to present to the clinic hair-free."

"Do you honestly expect us to believe that you can shave a scrotum with that thing?" he asked in disbelief, gesturing at the straight razor.

_Oh, for the love of all that is holy._

"Look, Lieutenant, I don't expect _you_ to believe anything, but if you continue to eye-fuck my breasts as you have done throughout this entire interrogation, I'll be more than happy to demonstrate my prowess by wielding a straight razor on _your_ balls!" I challenged through clenched teeth.

In that moment, the Lieutenant looked as though he wanted to leap over the table to throttle me, but as soon as he began to shift in his seat, he was abruptly stopped by Commissioner Biers, who firmly clapped his bare hand on the skin at the back of the Lieutenant's neck. I watched on in fascination as I witnessed the outrage rippling through the Commissioner. The tissue under the fingernails, clearly visible at the side of Santiago's neck, blanched themselves of blood as his hand squeezed tightly in response to what he heard. Lieutenant Santiago winced in pain as the Commissioner read his mind.

"_Enough_!" Commissioner Biers yelled in fury, and then he brutally smashed the Lieutenant's forehead down onto the table with a loud _crack_. The force of the impact caused a tray of decorative wineglasses to rattle in the center of the table, and a six inch wide spider-fracture appeared in the black glass veneer of the table top. "Get. Out," he seethed.

Lieutenant Santiago yelped in pain, but he quickly recovered and sat up. Still, he didn't move, appearing indignant that he was the one being reprimanded.

"Do as I say, and get out of this room... _Now_ _Lieutenant_!" Commissioner Biers snarled.

The Lieutenant stood and stormed his way out of the office; however, he didn't have the guts, or should I say – the balls, to slam the door behind him in angry protest at being reprimanded and humiliated.

Stunned, I looked at Jenks, to confirm in my own mind that what I had witnessed had actually occurred, and wasn't just a case of wishful thinking on my part. Jenks was white-faced in shock, and he looked as though he was about to piss his pants in fear.

"My apologies, Miss Swan," Commissioner Biers said calmly, as he proceeded to roll down the sleeves of his shirt and refasten the buttons of the cuffs. "Had I been aware that the Lieutenant was behaving so inappropriately, I would have ejected him from the room sooner. Be assured that this matter will not be swept under the carpet. You have my word that he will be dealt with appropriately, and he will be required to stand in front of a disciplinary panel and attend mandatory sensitivity training. Despite my recent elevation to the position of Police Commissioner, I have made it my mission to separate the sheep from the goats, so to speak. If you wish to supply an affidavit, you can do so now, or at your own leisure, and your attorney can forward the paperwork to me."

"I'll – uh – think about it," I stammered, as my mind reeled at the turnabout of events. While I had gotten a general sense of the Lieutenant's lustful emotions toward me, Commissioner Biers had read his actual thoughts. I guess they must have been quite obscene given the Commissioner's explosive reaction.

"Excuse me for a moment, Miss Swan, I just need to make a call on your behalf, and then we can resume this interview; as long as you are willing to continue, of course. Otherwise, we can reschedule for tomorrow."

I looked at Jenks who indicated it was entirely up to me. I just wanted this whole ordeal to be over, so I elected to go on. Commissioner Biers walked over to a phone by the door, and when he spoke into it, he asked to speak to the detective who was in command of the crime scene at the clinic. He arranged for my belongings to be collected and transported to the precinct. I would be able to obtain them from the front desk and go straight home once the interview was over.

The remainder of the interview was spent with Commissioner Biers peppering me with question after question about Carlisle's professional and personal life. Apparently, the subject of the two men I'd seen in Carlisle's office was no longer any of my concern.

_"Did Carlisle have any enemies?_

_Was Carlisle working with The Resistance, and if so, in what capacity?_

_Did Carlisle have a girlfriend? _

_Was he ever the cause of a relationship breakdown for another couple?_

_Where did Carlisle grow up?_

_Who were his closest friends and relatives?_

_Did Carlisle ever talk about his family?_

_What research project was Carlisle working on before he was killed?"_

Coming out of the conference room, I came away with the realization that I hardly knew Carlisle at all. Everything I had known about him was superficial. I had never met anyone in his family. He had once mentioned that his father had been a Diagnostic, but I had no idea of his name, where he lived, or if he was still alive. He'd never mentioned a mother or any siblings.

I had told Commissioner Biers about the revolving-door that was Carlisle's love life, and I gave him the names of the various 'girlfriends' who had come and gone over the last two years. But even then, I didn't know the last names of some of those women or where he'd met them. Of course, I didn't mention what Carlisle had said to me this morning about the extent of his involvement with those women… or lack thereof. I could only hope that if they were interviewed, they would protect Carlisle's secrets.

And as for Carlisle's research, that was the most disturbing part of all. He had purposely been keeping information secret from me for the last month or so, and I was beginning to worry that it was his research that had gotten him killed. However, I didn't mention this fact to the Commissioner. I could only hope that it – whatever it was Carlisle was working on – didn't end up in the wrong hands.

I was escorted to a visitor's room where Emmett and Rosalie were waiting. The Commissioner held out his bare hand, and I took it without hesitation to shake it goodbye. He held onto my hand longer than was normally acceptable, and then he rubbed his thumb back and forth over my inner wrist. The sly bastard was attempting to read me again, and I cocked an eyebrow at him in question.

"Oh, come now, Miss Swan. You can't blame a guy for trying," he said sheepishly. "It wounds my pride that a little thing like you is immune to my talent."

For the first time, I saw him smile; really smile and he was breathtakingly handsome. However, I didn't allow his charming smile to disarm me, and I pulled my hand out of his gentle grasp. I'd seen what the man was capable of, and he still scared the shit out of me.

The Commissioner then bid his farewell, again encouraging me to consider submitting a written affidavit against Lieutenant Santiago. He gave me a business card with his contact details and asked me to call him personally if I had any additional information that might help find Carlisle's killer.

The moment Rosalie saw me; she burst into tears and launched her body in my direction to hug me. "I'm so, so sorry, Bella. I just can't believe it – Carlisle…," she sobbed.

I had to close my eyes against her grief that arced relentlessly like an electric current from her body. So strong were her emotions, I actually felt myself start to sway even though she was holding me tightly.

"Rosie… Rosie, babe, you need to let Bella go, or you are going to freak her the fuck out," Emmett said gently, attempting to pry me out of Rosalie's death-like grip. He was never one to mince his words when it came to protecting me. He knew me well enough, and he was probably concerned about how I was going to have an emotional melt-down in public, if I didn't seek out solitude as soon as possible.

"Go and wait for us in the transporter with Stephan. We'll be out as soon as we have everything squared away with the cops, he said."

"Okay." Rosalie sniffled and then released me. "Sorry, Bella, I forgot myself. I'll see you in the transporter. Hopefully, I'll be a bit more emotionally stable." Rosalie then turned and walked in the direction of the glass double doorway with the illuminated green and white exit sign and digital clock above it.

It was after eight p.m.

After bidding farewell to Jenks, Emmett and I turned and moved in the direction of the precinct foyer. As I approached the reception desk, I saw Lieutenant Santiago was leaning over the shoulder of a young female Deputy, who was seated and manning the phones. She looked uncomfortable and irritated at his proximity, and I didn't blame her one little bit. When the Lieutenant caught my gaze, he straightened up and sneered at me. The primary emotion that leapt out at me was revenge, and it briefly caused me to balk my stride. Noticing the large, red welt that was still visible in the middle of his forehead, and the thick Plexiglas partition that separated us, I suddenly felt braver and approached the Deputy.

Ignoring Lieutenant Santiago's venomous glares, I asked the Deputy if my belongings had been brought over from the clinic. She looked relieved to have a valid reason to get away from the creepy Lieutenant, and she moved to pull out a heavy wooden crate from under the desk. Hoisting the crate awkwardly onto one hip, the Deputy then walked through to a side security door which opened out into the foyer. As she started to pass me the crate, Emmett sidled his way in front of me, and he grabbed it from the Deputy before I had a chance to touch it. Too tired to give a shit about being a strong, independent woman anymore, I didn't bother to argue and just allowed Emmett to have his moment of chivalry. He needed to feel useful.

As Emmett took my box of belongings out to the transporter, I waited just inside the foyer door. He would be returning shortly to carry me across the snow covered parking lot. I remained shoeless as my clothes were still regarded as evidence. They wouldn't be returned to me until they had been thoroughly examined for trace evidence. As far as I was concerned, they could keep them. I didn't want to see anything else with Carlisle's blood smeared on it.

Lieutenant Santiago was alone behind the reception desk, and I tried my best to ignore him. However, a loud bang on the Plexiglas partition caused me to startle, and on reflex I turned around to see what had caused it. The Lieutenant was leaning on the front counter with his forearms. He lifted his index and middle fingers and brought them in front of his mouth, holding them in the shape of a 'V'. Using his tongue, he began to obscenely lap at the space between his fingers. I turned away in disgust, and he laughed evilly.

-oo0oo-

The ride home from the precinct was mercifully free of conversation. For the most part, we were quiet and lost in our own thoughts. Rosalie and Emmett sat in the back, and I sat in the front next to Stephan. That way I didn't have to look at Rosalie for the duration of the twenty minute journey. Occasionally, Rosalie would let out a sniffle or sob, and Emmett would comfort her with gentle words that were barely audible to me over the rumble of the LMC eight-seater snowcat.

When we arrived at the compound, I again allowed Emmett to carry my belongings into my quarters and then me. Emmett asked me where I wanted him to stow the wooden crate. I directed him to a space in the corner of the room that was out of the way of where I usually walked, so I wouldn't find myself tripping over it later.

Emmett left soon after, as he needed to get back to Rosalie, but only after a solemn promise from me to allow him to visit in the morning, as soon as I was awake and dressed. At the door, I handed back his suit jacket, and he hugged me goodbye.

Finally, I was alone… apart from Alice, who was strangely silent.

"Alice?"

"Yes, Miss Swan?"

"You're being very quiet. I guess you've already heard about what happened today… to Carlisle."

"Yes, Miss Swan. It was all over the news," she said, not bothering to show her face on her monitor.

Given the circumstances, I guessed Alice was choosing to tone down her usual verbose behavior, and it was perfectly fine by me. Although Alice was only a computer, there were times when she could be amazingly perceptive to my emotional needs.

"I need to get clean, Alice. I feel… contaminated. And I want to wash my hair, too," I said, reminded of her stunt in the cleansing chamber this morning.

"Yes, Miss Swan," she said in a monotone voice.

Walking over to the corner, I retrieved my hairbrush from my tote bag that was sitting in the top of the crate. It was then that I realized the Jell-o cups Emmett had given me at lunch were gone. Stolen.

"_Goddamn… son of a whore… ass fucking COP_!"

In my anger, I had stupidly kicked the crate, and when my cold, bare foot made contact with the wood it sent a jolt of pain through my big toe, my foot and along my shin. I hopped over to my sofa and lifted my foot to massage the pain away. I had a fairly decent idea of the one person who was responsible for the theft. Jenks was definitely getting a call in the morning, and Commissioner Biers was getting my affidavit.

Walking to my closet, I picked out a new I.L. suit and headed to the cleansing chamber. After hanging the suit on a hook, I stood in front of the vanity mirror and took my hair out of its disheveled braid. I welcomed the pain as my hairbrush pulled its way harshly through the gnarls and knots, ripping random strands of hair from my scalp, giving me yet another excuse to cry. The brush fell out of my grasp and clattered noisily onto the tiled floor. Taking in great heaving gasps that I could no longer restrain, I bowed my head and braced my hands onto the edge of the vanity counter.

Holding on tightly, I controlled my descent to the floor as my knees buckled and gave out from under me. When I hit the floor, the sobs and screams I'd been holding in finally left my body.

I have no idea of how long I lay there in that small room, venting my grief to the four walls as my cries echoed around me. When my voice was hoarse, and my tears were spent, I finally stripped out of my I.L. suit and stepped into the chamber. After treating my hair with the powdered shampoo, I asked Alice to begin the cleansing sequence.

Nearing the end of my routine, I swiped the wash cloth between my legs, and it came away blood streaked. I was reminded of Carlisle once again; the way he had teased me this morning, accusing me of PMS'ing. I closed my eyes and tried to will away a fresh round of tears. I just needed to steel myself long enough, so I could finish my wash, get dressed, crawl into bed, and go to sleep.

_Escape_.

After dressing and setting up my feeding pump, I connected the line to my J-tube and climbed into bed. As tired as I was, my mind was unable to shut down. After an hour of tossing and turning, I grabbed my well-worn copy of 'Master Of The Game' by Sidney Sheldon from the book shelf at the end of my bed. It had been a long time, maybe five or more years, since I had read it, and I couldn't remember the plot. I wasn't in the mood to read one of the romantic novels I usually favored, so I began to read.

And read…

And read…

And for a time, it was an escape.

Sleep and its blessed oblivion were elusive.

* * *

**A/N Song Inspiration – You Might As Well Try To Fuck Me by The Music.**

**Thanks for the kind reviews. I'll reply to all who have enabled PM's. Your kind words mean so much to me, and some of your questions inspire me to add things to the story.**

**My usual thanks go to FerlaV for pre-reading and giving me encouragement. Check out her new FFN Bio "Life-In-The-Shape-Of-A-Girl". You can find her in my list of favorite authors. If you ever read any of her stories under her previous fic name, go and leave her another review. Angel Of Corruption has been taken down for revamping (LOL) but hopefully, StripperWard and Pole-Girl will be back soon.**

**B-o-B xxx**

**Please stroke the fragile ego of the author.**

**l**

**l**

**V**


	7. Everybody Hurts

**A/N - I don't own Twilight... but you already knew that.**

* * *

_Sleep and its blessed oblivion were elusive._

_-oo0oo-_

**Everybody Hurts**

_Thursday April 19__th __2412_

My eyes drooped, and I felt the book in my hands becoming heavy. My inner monologue chanted a mantra to keep me from drifting off.

_Don't sleep. _

_Don't sleep._

_Don't sleep. Don't sleep. Don't sleep._

_Keep your eyes open. _

Six days...

It'd been six days since Carlisle's death - or more accurately - since Carlisle's murder.

I've endured the last six days on minimal sleep. Sleep is no longer my preferred method of escape.

Intermittent nightmares have plagued my unconsciousness. I've relived the horror of Carlisle's last living moments over and over in my dreams. And then there are the _other_ dreams…

I've been too afraid to close my eyes, worried that the nightmares will haunt me. Although I desperately try to keep myself alert, my traitorous body always lets me down. Eventually, it gives in to the overwhelming exhaustion, only to startle awake an hour or two later, unrefreshed and shivering in a cold sweat.

To stay awake, I have busied myself by rereading the books from my shelves. They have been my only source of comfort and distraction during my waking hours.

For six days, I've avoided everyone I know and care about; Emmett, Rosalie, Angela and Ben - they've all stood outside my door at one time or another and attempted to speak with me. Jenks has been the only person I've spoken to, and that was simply to say, "Here," and to inch my arm out through a small gap in the doorway to hand him my affidavit.

I've instructed Alice to let no one in. I don't want to face anyone, as I'm too tired and twitchy to deal with their emotions. I know my friends and family are concerned and frustrated with me for shutting them out of my life, but it's for the best.

My days have consisted of moving around from my bed to the bookshelf to the refrigerator and back to bed again. I've hidden myself away in my little sanctuary, my cocoon. I've felt safe from everyone… except maybe from myself.

I've neglected myself.

For six days, I haven't bothered to wash my body or hair, nor brush my teeth. I know I smell bad - really bad; so bad that I can't even stand it. I've only changed my I.L. suit twice. I've run low on suits, and while I know I should obtain fresh supplies from the exchange, I just can't face the outside world.

I know I look awful; there are dark circles that surround my eyes, and my hair is limp and tangled. My lips and skin are dry. I've barely taken in my recommended dose of enteral nutrition or fluids, only doing so when necessary because I had needed to complete the course of antibiotics that Carlisle prescribed.

I'm slightly depressed, I'll admit it; but I'm not intentionally trying to hurt myself.

_I just don't care anymore. _

_I don't want to die... not really, but what's the point? _

On Saturday evening - before I'd turned off my answering machine - I'd listened to a message informing me that I was to take a forced leave of absence, until the arrival of the new physician. Apparently, this person will take over the running of the clinic, but there was no firm date of when they would be arriving. It may be a week, or possibly more, before I can go back to work.

The book in my hand slipped from my grasp, and I fumbled with it.

_Keep on reading. _

_Don't you dare close your eyes!_

_Keep on reading. Keep on reading._

_Hold on._

_Hold on._

My body succumbed to the tiredness.

_Fuck…No. _

_No!_

My eyes flew open when my subconscious mind detected a strange noise coming from behind me - a shuffling sound. As I attempted to turn over to identify the source of the noise, a large, meaty, male hand was clamped firmly over my face.

The grip was too tight against my mouth, and I felt as though my eye-teeth were going to pierce through the inside of my upper lip.

A familiar face moved into my line of sight, and I screamed, but to no avail.

It was Lieutenant Santiago.

_Oh shit!_

His face, only inches from mine, grinned evilly before speaking.

"Do you know what '_sensitivity training_' is, Miss Swan?" he asked, whispering harshly into my ear. He then moved quickly to straddle my supine body.

Instantly, I was trapped; my arms were pinned down beneath the blankets, and the weight of his massive body crushed down on my abdomen and pelvis. I thrashed my head around and screamed, but my cries were muffled by his large, sweaty hand. My eyes were wide open; too afraid to blink.

_If he's going to hurt me, I need to see the blow when it comes, so I can brace myself. _

The Lieutenant looked at me expectantly. It was as though he actually wanted me to answer him, even though my words would no doubt be muffled and garbled. I shook my head from side to side to appease him with some sort of response.

"No, of course you don't you stupid _freak_. You. Don't. Know. Anything." Santiago annoyingly tapped me on the forehead to underscore each of his words before pulling back his hand and slapping me hard across the cheek. He then stifled my screams again.

My face stung like Hell. My cheeks were wet; I cried uncontrollably because I was terrified.

_Please, God help me._

"Well, allow me to be the one to enlighten you, _freak_. It is brain-washing; it's fucking mind-erasing! It's not just the removal of certain '_unpleasant_' or '_inappropriate_' thoughts," he emphasized, using one-handed air quotes.

'_Unpleasant_' and '_inappropriate_' were the terms that had been mentioned within Commissioner Biers' report to describe the Lieutenant's innermost thoughts during our interview. Jenks had given me a copy of the report when I'd handed him my written affidavit.

"They wipe everything… _Everything_!" he bellowed, "and then they fucking reprogram you. There's no way in Hell that I will ever become one of Biers' obedient lap dogs. That's no fucking life, is it? Curiosity killed the cat, _freak_… you ever heard of that one?" he hissed close to my ear. "It's not my fault you and that sanctimonious fucker, can read me like a book. If you were both normal, if you weren't such intrusive fucking mind-freaks, you'd have never known I was thinking of you, or specifically, what I wanted to do to you on that conference table.

With one sweaty hand still roughly clasped over my mouth, the Lieutenant pulled at the collar of my I.L. suit. The sudden friction of the fabric, as the suit was harshly ripped from my upper body, caused my skin to sting and burn. Lowering his face to my newly exposed skin, he panted hot, fetid breaths over my neck before moving lower down to my chest.

He chuckled at my feeble attempts to move away from him, and then he flattened his tongue and licked a path from my left collarbone up to the area behind my earlobe. I shuddered in revulsion as I felt the texture of his tongue as it rasped along my skin. He then suctioned his mouth over my pulse point; marking me. I thrashed my head about to protest when I realized what he was doing to me.

Pulling back slightly, he surveyed his handiwork and smirked.

"Now, little girl, I'm going to take my hand off your mouth. Don't you dare speak, scream or move a fucking inch! If you do, I'll fry you until you can't remember your own name," he warned.

I cringed in fear as he placed a taser over the skin on my neck that was still wet from his rancid saliva. His hand, moist from a combination of my own saliva and his sweat, moved slowly away from my mouth. With his other hand, he reached down to release the button on his pants.

I screamed.

I screamed and bucked with every single ounce of energy I had left within my body. The Lieutenant covered my mouth with his own lips, and his tongue violently probed my mouth, stifling my screams. A feeling of disgust ripped through me at the invasion, and I did the only thing I could think of to make him stop.

I bit down.

Hard.

I tasted his salty blood and flesh.

I heard his agonized roar.

I felt his warm blood on my skin as it rained over me.

The Lieutenant reared his head back, and I watched in morbid fascination at the blood as it trickled from his mouth and dripped from his chin.

A menacing look crossed his face when he looked at the taser that was still positioned at my neck.

_BANG- BANG- BANG_

_BANG- BANG- BANG-BANG- BANG- BANG_

"Bella, open up!"

_BANG- BANG- BANG-BANG- BANG- BANG_

"Bella? Bella? Open the door!" Emmett's voice sounded panicked coming from the other side of my front door.

Dazed, I sat up quickly, and I frantically cast my eyes around my quarters for any sign of my attacker. My heart pounded so hard; I felt as though it would break through my rib cage. My body was rigid with fear, but my mind was still befuddled from sleep.

"BELLA! Open this goddamn door or I'll have Emmett break it down!" Rosalie yelled like a banshee.

_BANG- BANG- BANG-BANG- BANG- BANG_

It was time to face facts… I needed help, and I needed my family.

"Alice?" my voice rasped.

"Yes, Miss Swan."

"Let them in." I sighed in resignation.

The magnetic lock of the front door disengaged and immediately the door was flung open. Rosalie, followed closely by Emmett, barreled her way through the doorway. I could see Rosalie's ire as a cherry-red aura. The aura that surrounded her signaled me like a red rag to a bull. However, before either of us could launch into a full-scale bitch fight, Emmett cut Rosalie off and ran over to where I was positioned on the bed. He grabbed one of my blankets and then threw it over my head.

While I have a tendency to absorb painful emotions from the people around me, I conversely reflect any anger that is directed specifically at me. Emmett knows better than anyone else does, that it is a dangerous thing to get into a heated argument with me. He knows that fighting with me will escalate for as long as a person remains angry with me. I'm physically incapable of backing down from an argument until the other person backs down first.

As kids, on numerous occasions, Emmett bore the brunt of his own anger as I mirrored it back at him. Once he realized what was happening, he rapidly learned that it was much easier to back down or just quickly walk away if he couldn't bring his own temper under control. There'd been times when Emmett had needed to remove me physically from arguments with strangers before any blows were exchanged.

"Stay down," he ordered, and instantly I calmed down. "Rosalie, you need to reel your anger in or leave right now or else Bella will say and do things you will both regret."

I heard Rosalie start to complain, but Emmett must have done something or given her a look that made her think twice about disregarding his advice.

"Fine!" she yelled, and then I heard her release a huff of frustration. There was a pause of about half a minute before anyone spoke again.

"Are you calm now? Emmett asked Rosalie."

"Yeah, you can let her out," she replied.

Emmett lifted the blanket and peeked underneath to look at me. "You smell and look like shit, Bells," he stated as he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Thanks a lot," I muttered in embarrassment as I tossed the blanket off me completely.

I looked at Rosalie, secretly hoping she was still pissed at me, so I would have an excuse to yell at them both, but she seemed to have calmed down considerably. Her psyche was merely radiating her concern for my well being. She turned around and surveyed the room, taking in the disarray.

There were hundreds of books strewn about on the floor. Once read, I had carelessly tossed each book over the side of the bed before going to the shelves to find something else.

"Seriously, Bella… 'The Cat In The Hat Comes Back'?" Rosalie said reaching down to pick up the book in question and arching an eyebrow at my choice of reading material. "You're a little too old to be reading Dr. Seuss, don't you think?"

"Yeah… well, it's a classic, and I'm running out of things to read," I said lamely.

Rosalie walked over to my bookcase and placed the book on the shelf. She then proceeded to pick up the other discarded books from the floor as Emmett sat down next to me on the bed.

"We've been worried about you, Bella. You promised you would let me see you on Saturday," he said sadly.

"I know," I said, ashamed that I had broken my promise to him. He had stood outside my door for over an hour late Saturday afternoon and begged me to let him in. He then tried calling and left message after message on my answering machine until I'd turned it off.

"I can understand why you didn't want to see us, but you could have at least spoken to us through the door or answered the damn phone. We were worried that we'd end up having to cart you off to the hospital again. After Charlie's death, you were almost catatonic. We didn't want to see you go through that ordeal again."

I listened to Emmett's concerns while I watched Rosalie. She busied herself by alphabetizing my book collection. "I'm sorry I worried you both, but you know I can't help the way I feel..."

"Speaking of how you feel, I have a few things I need to tell you, some really important things, and I'm not sure how you are going to react," Emmett said, taking both of my hands into his own grasp.

I finally looked at Emmett and gave him my full attention. "Like what?" I asked hesitantly.

Emmett released a heavy sigh before speaking. "Carlisle's funeral is this evening. Now I know it's going to be impossible for you to go to the ceremony, but… if you want to, I've spoken with the funeral director, and he has granted us permission to attend a private viewing beforehand. It can be just you, or if you want me to come with you for support, I can be there for you. That is, if you want to, of course."

I mulled it over in my mind. My last memory of Carlisle was one of blood and violence. I needed to change that. I knew that in order to get some control over my dreams, I would need to replace that memory with something else.

_Perhaps seeing him restful and at peace will grant me some inner calm_, I mused.

"Okay, I'll go," I said quietly.

Emmett looked at me utterly surprised. He had obviously presumed I wouldn't want to go.

"Oh! Right. Um-"

"You said you had a few things to tell me. What else did you need to say?"

"It's the medical clinic and Carlisle's residence - they've been vandalized."

I let out a gasp of shock at the news. "Vandalized? How?"

"The clinic was ransacked and looted, and someone painted anti-Resistance slogans on the inside walls. It's all fairly superficial damage though, and it can be repaired. The physician's residence, however, has been destroyed. There was a fire last Saturday night. It's been reported as an arson attack."

"Did they find the culprit?" I asked.

"No, not at this stage, and it may be more than one person who was responsible. It also means that the investigation into Carlisle's murder can't go much further. The crime scene has been compromised."

I closed my eyes, and I took a moment to absorb the ramifications of all that Emmett had told me, and I felt overwhelmed.

_Oh, God, Carlisle… what on Earth did you do?_

"Emmett - with the residence gone, and the medical clinic destroyed, I wonder what will happen when the new physician arrives? They probably won't even want to come here now, and the chances are that I'm going to be out of a job," I said, with a trace of panic in my tone.

"I really don't know, Bella," he said, "but if you need a job, you could always come to work for me and Rosalie," he offered with some hope in his voice.

I looked at him dubiously, but I saw he was perfectly serious. "You'd really give me a job at ESME?" I asked, somewhat amused. "You realize I don't even know the first thing about what actually goes on in there. And what about Tanya? You know I could never work in the same building as her," I reminded him.

"Pfffft! For you..., I would fire her in a heartbeat," he said, and then he smiled broadly and gave me a wink. "And I could teach you everything you'd need to know."

I laughed a little, and it felt good to be able to do so.

Emmett continued enthusiastically, "Your medical knowledge would be a huge asset, plus it would be good to have someone to help Rosalie while I'm away and setting up the other locations."

"Hey? Speaking of other locations, weren't you supposed to be scouting sites and salvaging stasis tubes or something this week?" I asked.

"I postponed the trip. I couldn't leave without first knowing you were okay," he explained.

Guilt suddenly flooded through me, and I didn't know what to say. I moved my gaze to Rosalie, and I noted that she had moved on from shelving the books to generally tidying up. She noisily deposited an armful of empty plastic enteral feed containers into the trash along with a box worth of used Kleenex. When she noticed I was watching her, she marched over to my closet and picked out one of two remaining I.L. suits, a pair of black pants, a shirt, and a black jacket.

"If we are going to take you to the funeral home, you'll need to clean yourself up first," Rosalie stated testily." She tossed the outfit at me with a little more force than was necessary, and the bundle of clothing hit me in the face and chest. Before I could react to her apparent anger, she strode off without a second glance back at me. Rosalie then proceeded to redirect her frustration by upending the wooden crate that had been dumped in the corner of the room last Friday night and forgotten. One by one, she picked up the spilled contents and looked around for places to store the items.

Feeling chastised, I picked up the pile of clothes she'd tossed at me, and I headed to the cleansing chamber.

-oo0oo-

I just couldn't believe what I was seeing and hearing today.

Firstly, viewing the burned out ruins of what had once been the physician's residence, as we'd driven through the compound, had been difficult for me to deal with. The windows were shattered; some of the exterior walls were charred and crumbling, and half of the roof had collapsed in. It was far beyond repair.

To add insult to the whole disaster, someone had callously painted the words 'Resistance Scum' in red paint on one of the intact side walls. A large black letter 'R' inside a red circle - with a red diagonal line through it - had been painted on what remained of the partly collapsed front wall. A lot of happy times had occurred in that once familiar residence, but today as we'd passed by, it had looked barely recognizable to me.

And now this; Carlisle's body was _missing_.

_Unbelievable_.

"How on Earth did this happen? How does a dead body just fucking disappear?" Emmett yelled.

The flustered Funeral Director was at a loss to explain how it had happened. The other staff members of the Reclamation Center swore that no one had taken Carlisle's body for the final reprocessing procedures before what was left of him was to be cremated. They could only conclude that _'the body_' had been stolen.

I was stunned and feeling overwhelmed… _again_.

And it was the final straw that broke the proverbial camel's back.

In the past three days, I'd only had seven hours of fitful, nightmare-filled sleep. I hadn't taken in any enteral nutrition or fluids for at least twenty-four hours.

I could feel the sweat as it broke out and began to bead on my forehead. Then my face suddenly felt cold and numb as the blood drained away from it.

Inside my head, I could hear a strange noise that sounded like fine, dry sand being poured onto a piece of paper, and the voices of the people standing next to me echoed around my brain. It was as though they were speaking to me while standing in an empty corridor.

I fell, and my vision darkened just before I hit the floor.

_Oh fuck._

* * *

**A/N - Song Inspiration - Everybody Hurts by R.E.M.**

**Thanks for the kind reviews, especially to the diehards that have reviewed every chapter so far. You rock! **

**I'll reply to all who have enabled PM's. Your reviews really mean a lot to me, and some of your questions have inspired me to add things to the story. If you saw this story recommended somewhere, I would really appreciate it if you could mention where you saw it, so I can send a message of thanks.**

**Thanks and kisses go out to The Lemonade Stand for recommending this story on their blog last week.**

**As usual, my undying love goes to Chaz (Life-In-The-Shape-Of-A-Girl) for pre-reading and giving me encouragement. Angel Of Corruption chapter 1 is back up on her new profile (see my fave authors list) and it will be updating weekly as the chapters are revamped. If you haven't read it before (or even if you have) do yourself a massive favor and run along and read it right now. StripperWard is HOT HOT HOT! *fans self* **

**B-o-B xxx**

**Click here to see Rob Pattinson… **_**naked!**_

**(okay not really… I can't back that up).**

**l**

**l**

**V**


	8. No Faith In Medicine

**A/N I don't own Twilight****. 'Nuff said for now.**

* * *

_I fell, and my vision darkened just before I hit the floor._

_Oh fuck._

-oo0oo-

**No Faith In Medicine**

_Thursday April 19th 2412_

"It looks as though she's coming 'round," an unfamiliar male voice announced from above.

My eyes fluttered open, and I startled at the number of expectant faces that stared back at me.

_Wow! There's nothing quite like waking up with a crowd of people standing over you,_ I briefly mused.

Emmett, Rosalie, Angela and a few other people I didn't recognize peered down at me with so many concerns it was crushing. I closed my eyes tightly and took in a few deep breaths to steel myself against their emotions.

"Back off," I croaked.

"Miss Swan? Do you know where you are?" the unfamiliar male voice asked, while gently shaking me by the left shoulder.

_Fuck that hurts. I _shied away from the hand that was shaking me.

"Can some of you, please back off; I can't think with all of you hovering over me like this," I said as I batted away another unfamiliar hand with annoyance. My voice sounded strange coming through the clear plastic mask that covered my mouth and nose. I could faintly hear the soft hiss of the oxygen as it flowed over my face. It dried out the insides of my mouth and nostrils with each breath of air.

"What's she talking about?" said another unknown voice. This time the voice was female.

Angela was the one to explain. "Bella's an Empath. We're probably bombarding her with our emotions. She gets easily overwhelmed. I think you'll find that some of us will need to leave the room, so Bella can orient herself, now that she's conscious."

"I see," the male voice said. "Okay then… you, you, you and you. Please leave the room, he ordered gruffly."

I heard an irritated huff, a clank of metal against metal and then a shuffling of several pairs of feet as the bystanders left the room.

"You can open your eyes now, Bells," Emmett said softly.

I cautiously opened one eye, and this time I was greeted by just three faces. Emmett and Angela stood on one side of me, and a man I didn't know stood on the other side. The unfamiliar man was wearing navy blue scrubs, and he had a stethoscope draped around his neck. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties, with hazel colored eyes that sparked with knowledge. His face was beginning to show the signs of ageing, and his straight, black, collar-length hair was salt and pepper flecked at the temples. His demeanor was confident, and I presumed he was a doctor of some sort. I opened the other eye, and a sigh of relief finally escaped me. I noted Emmett's reassuring expression, and I smiled sheepishly at him.

_I'm more trouble than I'm worth. Why does Em put up with my shit? _I thought.

I took a quick mental inventory of my body and could feel several things that were new. My right arm felt cold. The back of my right hand stung, and it felt bulky. Using my right thumb, I brushed it inward, over my palm. From the texture of the material, I deduced that a bandage was wrapped around my hand.

The left side of my forehead, left shoulder and left hip were all aching. I lifted my head slightly off the pillow and noted I was on a narrow hospital bed. The small, but sudden movement made me acutely aware that I had the mother-of-all headaches, and my vision momentarily blurred. A flask of intravenous fluid was suspended from a long metal hook in the ceiling. The flask was three-quarters empty, and it was dripping at a rapid rate into the giving-set. The giving-set was attached to what must be a newly inserted venous cannula in the back of my right hand. Someone had probably bandaged over the top of the cannula, to prevent it from accidentally becoming dislodged. The rapid infusion of fluid explained the coldness I felt in that arm.

On the left side of the bed, stood a shiny metal pole on wheels, and I noted a flask of Total Parenteral Nutrition was suspended from it. The TPN was running through a metered pump to ensure it was administered at an evenly set rate. It was attached to the permanent port on my inner forearm. With my right hand, I reached across to pull the scratchy white hospital gown off my left shoulder. Turning my head slightly before pain prevented any more movement; I could just make out a faint purple bruise on my shoulder and upper arm. I presumed I must have landed pretty hard on my left side when I passed out, if the pain I felt there was anything to go by. It was most likely I had a matching bruise on my hip. I lifted my left hand to my forehead and winced when my fingers came into contact with a painful, egg-sized lump.

"Miss Swan, my name is Doctor Banner, and I'm from the Neurosurgical department. As you are probably now aware, you are in the hospital. Do you know what day it is? Do you remember what happened to you?" He proceeded to shine a small light at my face, first directing it in my right eye and then my left, causing them to both sting and water.

"Is it still Thursday?" I asked with uncertainty, and the doctor nodded in affirmation. "We were at the funeral home and umm…, I think I must have... fainted. And please, don't call me, Miss Swan - I hate that... call me, Bella."

"Well, actually, Bella, it's a little more serious than just fainting. You fainted as a result of hypotension and hypoglycemia, due to a combination of both dehydration and anorexia, and your brother told me that you hit your head when you fell down. You've been unconscious for about three hours. We were all quite worried about you."

"Oh."

"It was just fortunate we had Angela here today to diagnose you so quickly. It seems that your hemoglobin level and packed cell volume were quite high, and your serum electrolytes are all over the place, too. Your blood results indicate to us that you haven't been getting adequate fluids or nutrition for some time. As you can see," Doctor Banner said pointing in an off-handed manner to the flask of intravenous fluids, "we're rapidly trying to correct the dehydration. Have you recently been ill?" he asked.

"Not really… I mean... I did have a slight skin infection around my j-tube, but I was on antibiotics for that. I guess I haven't been taking proper care of myself lately...," I muttered.

Emmett decided to interrupt. "Bella recently had a traumatic incident at her place of employment. She works as a Nurse Practitioner at the FORKS medical clinic, and last week she witnessed the death of her work colleague who was also a very close friend. She was physically assaulted, too. Over the last week, Bella has had some difficulty coming to terms with the loss. Today we were at the funeral home, and we learned some very disturbing news, which is when Bella fainted."

"I see. I did hear about the death of Doctor Cullen. He was a very good man and a brilliant physician. His loss to our community is devastating," Doctor Banner said while looking at me sympathetically. "I can understand you must be grieving terribly."

"To be honest, Doc, she hasn't been coping very well for last few months. Before Doctor Cullen's murder, Bella also lost her father due to violent circumstances. Then toss in the whole issue of her Empathic abilities on top of it all, and she's been a real mess emotionally. I'm concerned she's depressed."

As soon as Emmett mentioned 'depression', Angela was quick to speak up. "No… it's not clinical depression… not yet. However, it's very close to it. Bella, when I analyzed you, I found that your levels of neurotransmitters, such as serotonin, dopamine and norepinephrine were all in the borderline range. At this stage, I would say you are showing early signs of Post-traumatic Stress Disorder."

I closed my eyes in embarrassment. _Well, that's just fucking dandy. Now they all think I'm nuts!_

I let out another big sigh. "So what does this mean for me?" I asked with some resignation in my voice. I knew there would be no use in fighting them, so I decided I would just humor them for a while until they were satisfied with me again.

"At this stage we would just like to correct the other chemical imbalances due to dehydration and malnutrition. We'll keep you here for a day or so, and once your blood results are back within normal ranges, we'll release you into the care of your family. If you feel you need follow-up psychiatric support, we can arrange it on an outpatient basis."

"What? Um… No. That won't be necessary. I won't be a burden to my family. I do have my own home to go to, you know," I explained with some irritation, while attempting to sit upright. My head roared in pain, and my hands instantly flew upwards to rub at my throbbing temples.

The doctor looked at me sternly. "You heard what Angela said about the PTSD. You shouldn't be alone, Bella. Right now you need someone to keep an eye on you; someone to make sure you are taking proper care of yourself, so you don't end up back here," Doctor Banner pressed. I could see he was starting to get irritated with me as he proceeded to write something on a clipboard. Clearly, this man didn't like to be defied.

_Damn doctors and their God complexes._

The pain in my head took all the fight out of me, and I flopped back onto the pillow. I closed my eyes again, this time to block out the vibes the exasperated Doctor was giving off.

"Yeah, whatever, Doc," I said petulantly. "Is that okay with you, Em?"

"Of course it's okay. And Rosie could probably use the company while I'm gone..."

My eyes snapped open. "What?"

"I've already postponed my travel plans once, Bells. I need to leave sometime in the next day or so, so I can get on with building up the business," he explained.

"Oh, yeah, right. But… I can't just live with Rosalie. She's so impulsive with her emotions. If we get into an argument, neither one of us will back down, and you won't be around to referee. We'll probably end up killing each other!"

Doctor Banner finished whatever he was writing and interrupted our conversation. "Bella, you have two choices; stay with your family or I will keep you in the hospital. It's up to you. In the meantime, you will stay on intravenous TPN and hydration for tonight, and tomorrow you can recommence your usual enteral feeds and fluids through your j-tube. I've ordered you some analgesia for the headache. Please be sure to ask the Nursing staff if you feel you need it. I'll be back tomorrow morning to reassess you. Angela... can you get Bella something for her pain, please. I'm certain she needs something right now for her headache," he stated, as he handed the clipboard to her. "A reusable ice pack would also be a good idea for that nasty hematoma on her forehead. Put it on for about twenty to thirty minutes every two to four hours."

"Yes, Doctor. I'll organize it at once."

Doctor Banner left the room, and Angela asked me some questions regarding my level of pain. After some negotiation, we both decided that I would have some intravenous acetaminophen, and if I didn't get much relief from that, I would ask for something stronger. I was still trying to avoid sleep, so I didn't want to take anything that was going to make me drowsy. Angela left the room to fetch my medications and ice pack and sent in Rosalie, who had apparently been waiting just outside in the corridor.

Rosalie entered the room looking calm and composed. She pulled up a chair and sat next to Emmett. As she stared at me, she looked resolute about something, and I briefly wondered if she had overheard my refusal to stay with her while Emmett would be away on business.

"So, how are you feeling," she asked with slight concern.

"I've been better," I sighed and closed my eyes again. I was wondering when she was going to get around to ripping me a new one, and I didn't want to look at her.

"In case you're wondering, I did hear what you said about me… about not being able to live with me."

_Well, that answers that question, I suppose. And here it comes..._

"And I actually agree with you."

Emmett and I looked at her in disbelief. I was shocked that she didn't seem in the least bit offended.

Rosalie continued. "I love you, Bella, but together in large doses, we are like oil and water. You have your Empathy issues, and I can't easily control my emotions. I know I have a temper. I can't help it; it's just the way I am. I'm a person who feels things very passionately and reacts instinctively. But in most cases, it's not actually a bad thing. In fact, I have it on good authority that my fiery temper is one of the reasons why Emmett loves me so much," she said, giving Emmett a wry grin.

Emmett nodded and put his arm around Rosalie's shoulders. "It's just one of the many reasons why I love you, babe," he chuckled, "because your fiery temper is a good excuse for hot make-up sex."

Rosalie and I looked at each other and then rolled our eyes at Emmett's typically male comment, but it had the desired effect. We had all smiled, and the tension between us relaxed somewhat.

"So anyway…," Rosalie said exaggeratedly, continuing once again with her spiel, "I think I might have a solution to the problem. ESME." She grinned at us both as if what she had just announced was the most obvious thing in the world, but evidently, Emmett and I were both slow to catch on.

"ESME! It's the perfect solution!" Rosalie explained animatedly, as she turned to face Emmett. "We'll put Bella in an immersion tank while you are away on business." Emmett's face lit up with comprehension. She continued. "It makes perfect sense. It's just what the doctor ordered. The immersion tank is a homeostatically controlled environment, so the stasis medium will ensure she'll be adequately nourished and perfused at all times. That way we can be sure she's taken care of physically, and we won't have to put up with each other and walk on egg-shells for a whole month while you're away."

"Brains and beauty. How on Earth did I get so lucky to have you as a wife?" Emmett was grinning too, but to me, it was as if Rosalie had been speaking to me in another language, although I mostly understood that they wanted me to try ESME… for a whole month.

"Um… correct me if I am wrong, but I thought you guys said I couldn't use ESME until I was married."

Emmett gave me an exasperated look. "Bella! I was only talking about the short-term stasis tubes. Those are entirely different. We do actually sell other experiences, you know, besides the virtual sex."

"Oh… okay. But what about the fact that you are always saying how you don't have enough facilities to meet demand, and you're booked out in advance? I can't exactly afford ESME for a whole month, and I don't want to take up a place that someone has already booked-".

Rosalie was quick to butt in. "You don't need to worry about any of that. Emmett and I actually have our own immersion tank in our basement."

"What? How long has it been there?"

"Emmett built and installed it about a year after we got married. We've used it quite a few times to beta test the new excursions. Usually, it's a once a month thing, whenever Jasper is in town and can stay at our place. Em and I will typically spend from Friday evening until Monday morning in the tank, just getting away from it all. Jasper monitors our immersion tank from the outside to make sure we are okay. He also helps out if any problems occur at the facility over the weekend, giving us an uninterrupted escape."

"Huh… I didn't even know you guys had a basement," I said lamely in response to the surprising secret they had just revealed.

"So, what do you think, Bells?" Emmett asked.

"I'm not sure what to think. Why did you keep such a secret from me?"

"Look… does it honestly matter? ESME is the answer for our situation. I can't go away for a whole month, constantly worried that you aren't properly taking care of yourself; however, I can't stay home either. You heard the Doc. It's either stay in the hospital or come home with us. You said yourself that you and Rosie can't be together in the same place for too long before one of you does something to piss off the other, so ESME is the only viable option. Think of it, Bells…, in ESME your empathic ability will be nonexistent. You can interact with the characters in the scenario and not worry about being confronted with their emotions. It will be a holiday away from yourself."

"I suppose," I said still unsure.

Rosalie started to laugh. "You're only reluctant right now, because you don't know what you are missing. Tomorrow when you are discharged from the hospital, we'll take you to the ESME facility for your induction and interview. Then you'll quickly change your tune. Once you learn what's in store for you, you'll be just itching to get into the tank."

"I thought you said I would be using the tank in your basement? Why do we have to go to the ESME facility? "

Emmett explained. "Although Rosie and I have an immersion tank in our home, the rest of the equipment necessary is at the main facility. We prefer that each person who enters an ESME tank to go through an interview process and an induction. The interview is to find out your likes and dislikes, so the program can cater to your specific needs to make your ESME experience more enjoyable. Once we have all the information, a personality disk is created. ESME then combines the information from your personality disk with the excursion scenario disk, and the information is transmitted through the stasis medium into your brain, giving you the impression you are actually somewhere else."

"What's the induction then?"

"The induction is a legal requirement. By law, we have to inform each participant of what actually happens when they undergo immersion, and what we monitor. We also have to inform them of the potential side-effects," he said seriously.

"But I thought you said it was safe?" I said accusingly, looking at Rosalie and then back to Emmett.

"It is… mostly, but there have been one or two issues that have cropped up over the years."

"Like what?"

"Deep vein thrombosis was a common issue that we had in the early days, but we haven't had a problem since we slightly cut back on the dose of twilight sedation and started adding Heparin as an anti-coagulant into the stasis medium. Post ESME withdrawal is another issue, but that can usually be alleviated by a two-week course of Diazepam."

At the point where Emmett had been explaining the withdrawal risks, Angela had walked back into the room. She was carrying a glass bottle attached to an intravenous giving-set, a new flask of saline and glucose solution, a small reusable ice pack and a white washcloth. Rosalie stood and moved her chair away from the side of the bed to allow Angela to change over the now empty flask of isotonic saline and to piggy-back the acetaminophen to the medication port.

"Visiting hours are almost over," Angela informed us in a matter-of-fact tone. Angela then placed her hand over my forehead and breathed in deeply. "Bella needs to get some rest. Her sleep debt has taken quite a toll on her. Jesus, Bella… how much sleep have you had over the last week? You're a real mess in there."

"Hey don't sugar-coat it for me, Ange! Just tell it like it is!" I snarked.

Angela gave me a knowing smile. "I'm your friend, Bella. Don't forget, I know you. You've never sugar-coated it when the shoe has been on the other foot. You've been reading me like a damn billboard and telling me how it is for years. It's time for a little payback, I reckon."

Angela took the small, flexible ice pack and placed it within the folded halves of the white washcloth. She then placed it over the lump on the left side of my forehead. I could only imagine it would look quite impressive if I could see it in a mirror.

"So why are you working in here today, anyway? You normally work in obstetrics."

"There are no patients in obstetrics at the moment, and the next scheduled birth isn't for another three weeks. Things have really slowed down. In the meantime, I just work wherever they need me to. So, I'm afraid you're stuck with me for a few more hours."

Emmett stood from the chair he was sitting on. "We'll get going now, Bells. It seems you've got Angela here to antagonize you, so Rosalie's redundant," he joked. "We'll head home, and one of us will come back in the morning. Hopefully, you will be well enough to be discharged tomorrow."

Emmett approached the side of the bed and leaned in order to give me a goodbye kiss. He aimed at a spot on the side of my forehead, making sure to avoid the ice pack that was covering the throbbing lump.

"Love you, Sis."

"Love you, too, Em."

Rosalie then approached and gave me a goodbye kiss, but on the cheek instead. "Bye, Bella. We'll see you tomorrow.

I watched as Em and Rosalie left hand in hand, leaving Angela and me alone in the room.

"So, ESME, huh? You've wanted to do that for years."

"Yeah, I know, but… I dunno."

"You're just pissed because they're giving you no choice in the matter." Angela gave me another knowing smile. "You are as stubborn as a mule, Bella Swan."

I had to laugh. Angela did know me well. "How would you know? You've never even seen a live mule. No one has… for over… three-hundred and seventy years!"

"True, true. I suppose we should stop using such antiquated idioms. Maybe in the future we can start saying, 'as stubborn as a Swan' instead."

"Sure, but only until they get around to thawing out those horse and donkey embryos that are stored in the zoological ark, okay?"

"You're on."

"Angela?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really tired, but I'm too afraid to close my eyes. Every time I drift off to sleep, I have nightmares."

"You took a heavy knock to the head, and you were unconscious for quite some time. Even though I scanned you, and I couldn't see any evidence of intracranial bleeding, you still have a nasty concussion. Doctor Banner has requested that we wake you every two hours to monitor your neurological signs. It's gonna be a long night. Close your eyes and try to get some sleep. If it looks as though you're having a nightmare, I promise I'll wake you, okay?"

"Thanks, Ange."

"Hey, what are friends for?"

I closed my eyes and prayed for a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**A/N Song Inspiration ****– ****Girl, You Have No Faith In Medicine by The White Stripes.**

**Sorry about all the medical terminology used in this chapter. These characters are all in medical and scientific professions, and this is just the way we talk. I'm not going to add a list of all the scientific terms and their meanings. Google is your friend if you didn't already know this.  
**

**Thanks for the kind reviews, especially to the diehards that have reviewed every chapter so far. After posting the last chapter, this story hit triple digit reviews. It really meant a lot to me.**

**If you saw this story recommended somewhere, I would really appreciate it if you could mention where you saw it, so I can send a message of thanks.**

**As usual, my undying love goes to Chaz (Life-In-The-Shape-Of-A-Girl) for pre-reading, giving me encouragement and pimping me out in the latest chapter of Angel Of Corruption. **

**B-o-B xxx**

**Please remind me why I bother to write this.**

**l**

**l**

**V**


	9. Soma

**A/N - I don't own Twilight… I just thought I'd state the obvious.**

* * *

_I closed my eyes and prayed for a dreamless sleep._

-oo0oo-

**Soma**

_Friday, April 20th 2412_

Staring out of the passenger window of the LMC eight-seater snowcat, I watched the landscape as we passed by. After tying up a few loose ends, Emmett and I were finally on our way to the ESME facility. I turned my head to the front, and from my position in the back seat; I stared past the broad-shouldered physiques of Emmett and Stephan, who were sitting in the front. I looked at the clock on the dashboard, and I noted it was nearly five P.M. I looked out the front windscreen, and I was both anxious and excited to see the large ESME sign, as it loomed closer and closer.

Despite being in the hospital overnight, I had managed to get some sleep and felt better than I had all week. As promised, I had been woken when it appeared as though I was in the middle of a terrible dream; however, it had not been Angela, but another nurse who had gently roused me at one A.M. The nurse was an older woman with bright red hair, and her name was Shelly Cope. Shelly was exceptionally kind to me, and we talked quietly in the dim light of the small bedside lamp as she tended to my IV lines, administered more acetaminophen for my headache, and then performed a series of neurological observations. Shelly mentioned that while I was asleep, she had read through my case file. As Shelly read, she had come to realize she had looked after me before.

Shelly had apparently been one of the nurses who had cared for me years ago in the Intensive Care Unit, back when I had first been admitted to Alexandria General Hospital as a ten year old child. I was amazed to discover she'd needed to defibrillate my heart, not once, but twice, as I had gone into cardiogenic shock due to sepsis. It was a startling revelation to me. No one had ever mentioned I'd arrested before, and I had to wonder why that information had previously been kept quiet from me. Once the pain in my head had settled, I had drifted off into a restful, dreamless sleep, until I had been woken at four A.M., and then again, at six A.M. for more rounds of neurological observations.

By eight o'clock in the morning, Doctor Banner had instructed the morning shift nurse, Austin, to discontinue the two-hourly observations and to disconnect me from the IV lines; thereby allowing me to head off to the cleansing chambers when I felt ready. Although he was two years older than I was, Austin Marks was no stranger. We had attended many of the same classes when we'd trained to become Registered Nurses. In Nursing School, he was known for being a prankster, and I came to learn that not much had changed over the past two years, since we had graduated. All morning he fussed over me, joked and flirted.

Have I mentioned I'm not a morning person at the best of times?

Austin's overly cheerful disposition was too much to take at that time in the morning. All I wanted to do was to curl up into a ball under the covers. When it got to nearly eleven A.M., and I had refused to head to the cleansing chamber for the fourth time, he calmly informed me that if I didn't do as I was told; he was going to have to restrain me to the bed and give me a bed bath. I'd immediately shot up out of bed, swiftly leaving Austin behind as I headed straight for the chamber. He chuckled loudly to himself as he straightened the linens on my bed. Once I returned from my wash, I jumped back into bed and threw the covers over my head in the hope Austin would leave me alone for a little while, so I could catch up on more sleep.

At lunchtime, Austin shook me awake and handed me the supplies I needed to syringe in my enteral feed and water into my J-tube. He also informed me that Angela would be on at two-thirty in the afternoon, and once she was satisfied with my blood results, I would be discharged. Thankfully, Doctor Banner had given me the go ahead to leave the hospital after Angela had informed him that most of my blood chemistry had returned to near normal levels.

Emmett arrived with his driver, Stephan, at around three P.M., and we'd headed straight to my home, so I could change into some fresh clothes. While I was getting changed, I mentioned that I was down to my last I.L. suit and would need to pick up some new ones. Stephan kindly volunteered to take my laundry to the exchange and said he'd be happy to pick up new suits for me. When Stephan left, Emmett reminded me that I would be absent from my quarters for a month, so it would be a good idea to give my place a thorough clean, or else it would probably smell musty and rank on my return. With Emmett's help, the job was done quickly. Half an hour later, Stephan returned with an armful of I.L. suits and a claim ticket for my laundry. Emmett had explained that I would be going into the immersion tank tonight as he was planning to leave early the next morning. I would have to give the claim ticket to Rosalie, so she could pick up my processed laundry when it was ready.

I made a quick call to Sue and Harry Clearwater, to inform them of the situation, and then I said my goodbye's to Alice. Alice was thoroughly unimpressed when she discovered she would be left on her own for a month. She complained that without me around, she would have no one to talk to, and since Carlisle was gone, too, she no longer had a purpose in life. She then requested that I turn off all functions apart from security surveillance, claiming she would take a power nap until I returned. I honestly didn't know what to make of her insane rant. Alice is such a weird computer.

On the way to the ESME facility, we stopped at FORKS, as I'd needed to sort out my job situation. I spoke with the head of the medical specialist facility, Professor Caius. I informed him of my intention to take a month of leave, regardless of when a new physician would arrive to take over the clinic. I also told him of the PTSD issue that had arisen from Carlisle's death, and said that once the month of leave was over, I would make a final decision regarding my ability to return to FORKS as my place of employment. The Professor was quite sympathetic, and he told me to take as much time as I needed to heal. He was still unsure of when a new physician would arrive, but mentioned that repairs to the medical clinic were due to begin within the next week. Apparently, new accommodation for a physician had already been found.

We passed quickly through the security gates of the ESME facility, and Stephan deftly maneuvered the snowcat around to the undercover parking area at the rear. Emmett and I went in through the back entrance and headed straight to the front desk. I was relieved to see Tanya had already left for the day, and I saw that the after-hours receptionist, Karen Newton, was busily talking on the phone. When Karen saw me, she gave me a small wave and a friendly smile. I smiled in return as I walked past her and opened the door to Rosalie's office.

For as long as I've known Karen, she has always been friendly toward me. I had dated Karen's son, Mike, for about eighteen months, during our last two years of high school. Mike had been my first love. Unfortunately, to date, he has also been my one and only boyfriend, and to this day, it still pissed me off that the stupid jerk broke my heart. The fact that Karen and I both detested his wife was something that had continued to bond my ex's mother and me over the last four years.

On entering the office, I saw that Rosalie was sitting at her desk and tapping away on her holographic touch-screen. On seeing me, she stood and gave me a warm hug.

"Just let me finish up here, and then I'll take you to see ESME. Afterwards, we can go home and get this show on the road." Rosalie appeared to be excited but went back to her typing.

Emmett and I sat down in the two seats, in front of her desk. Emmett opened his briefcase and took out a tablet style personal computer. He tapped a few times and brought up a video application. He gave me a pair of wireless ear buds and then passed the tablet to me.

"Okay… put these in and then press here," he said, as he pointed to the play symbol on the screen. "You may as well watch the induction presentation while we wait for Rosie."

I placed the ear buds in my ears and tapped the screen. A video presentation started. A pleasant female voice spoke as the ESME logo spun around on the screen.

"Welcome to Extra-Sensory Metencephalon Expeditions, otherwise known as ESME. We hope you enjoy your experience. This presentation and tour will cover a number of topics; from what ESME is, to what you can expect from your expedition depending on your length of stay. We will also advise you of your rights as an ESME consumer, and in turn, the expectations of the ESME staff of its clients.

Before this presentation proceeds, you will be required to sign a non-disclosure agreement. If signed, you will henceforth agree to keep certain information regarding the ESME experience classified.

Outside the ESME facility you will not be permitted to discuss any of the following:

This induction video.

The interview procedure and any of the questions asked during the interview.

Any pre-ESME procedures you witness; any medications mentioned; or any of the equipment used within the ESME facility.

Any post-ESME procedures.

Any other clients you meet within the ESME facility.

The conduct of the owners or employees of ESME.

You will be permitted to discuss the following:

Your general intention to use ESME.

The cost of ESME.

The available expeditions and the expedition you intend to experience or have already experienced.

Your personal experiences while under the influence of ESME.

If you agree to these conditions, please sign the space below."

Emmett passed me a touch-pen, and I signed my name in the allotted space.

The presentation continued.

"What exactly is the Metencephalon and what is its role in ESME? The metencephalon is the division of the hindbrain that consists of the pons and the cerebellum. It is located below the posterior portion of the cerebrum and above the medulla oblongata."

A rotating image of a human brain appeared on the screen, and arrows pointed out the locations of the pons and cerebellum. A quote then silently flashed on the screen.

"_**If someone were to tell me I had twenty years left, and ask me how I'd like to spend them, I'd reply 'Give me two hours a day of activity, and I'll take the other twenty-two in dreams.'" **_

_**Spanish film director, Luis Buñuel (1900-1983).**_

"ESME and REM sleep:

The functions of the Metencephalon concern: Sleep, balance, cardiac reflexes, circulation, arousal, fine muscle movement and muscle tone maintenance.

Typically, we spend more than two hours each night dreaming. In the years after 1953, researchers first described R.E.M. (rapid eye movement) in sleeping infants, and scientists began to study sleep and dreaming. They soon came to realize that the strange, illogical experiences we call 'dreams' almost always occur during REM sleep.

During REM sleep, the breathing becomes more rapid, irregular, and shallow. The eyes jerk rapidly in various directions; the muscles of the limbs become temporarily paralyzed. The heart rate increases, the blood pressure rises, and males develop penile erections. When a person is purposefully roused from REM sleep, they are often able to recall their dreams.

Through ESME's patented technology, the Metencephalon is electronically stimulated, the pons in particular, to induce a constant state of REM sleep."

More quotes flashed onto the screen.

"…_**that I had my Lady Castlemayne in my arms and was admitted to use all the dalliance I desired with her, and then dreamt that this could not be awake, but that it was only a dream..."**_

_**From the diary of Samuel Pepys - 15th August, 1665.**_

"_**...yet in one dream I can compose a whole Comedy, behold the action, apprehend the jests and laugh my self awake at the conceits thereof."**_

_**Religio Medici, part 2:11 - Sir Thomas Browne, 1643.**_

"ESME and Lucid Dreaming:

Lucid dreaming is dreaming with full awareness that you are dreaming. Lucid dreams occur during sleep, just like ordinary dreams. In lucid dreams, because you know that you are dreaming, you are free to do anything you want, to experience anything imaginable, to do the impossible. To attain this freedom; however, you must '_awaken'_ within the dream - you must recognize that you are dreaming.

Building on previous twenty-first century technologies (such as the NovaDreamer by The Lucidity Institute, and the REM Dreamer by The Eli Company) the ESME facility has devised a method whereby a client, during REM sleep, can be placed into an extended state of dream awareness. This state of awareness is known as high-level lucidity, and it enables clients to control the course of their dreams within a set of well defined parameters; or, as we here at the ESME facility term them - expeditions.

Often, the first thing that attracts people to ESME is the potential for a wild adventure and fantasy fulfillment. Flying is a favorite lucid dream delight, as is sex. A large part of the extraordinary pleasure of ESME comes from the exhilarating feeling of absolute freedom that accompanies the realization that you are in a dream, and there will be no social or physical consequences of your actions.

We here at ESME pride ourselves in making your dream experience a happy one."

Music began to play and a final quote appeared on the screen.

_**I hope your dreams take you... to the corners of your smiles, to the highest of your hopes, to the windows of your opportunities, and to the most special places your heart has ever known.**_

_**Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)  
**_

The presentation ended, and I passed the tablet and ear buds back to Emmett. Rosalie looked up at me expectantly.

"So are you ready for the tour?" she asked.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure, why not?"

Emmett looked at his watch. "Actually, looking at the time, I think we should first take Bella to the prep-room, so she can start on her pre-ESME Colyte treatment."

"Um… Say what?" I didn't like the sound of that one little bit. I knew exactly what Colyte was.

"Colyte… you know… to clean you out. You are going to be immersed in an ESME medium tank for a month, breathing in a solution that you will essentially be suspended in, and the filter can't deal with solid matter. You don't want to shit where you sleep do you? Emmett explained.

"Ewww."

"Exactly. So we need to clean out your bowels thoroughly before you go in. You have two choices… we can give you an oil and water enema, or you can take the Colyte.

"I'll have the Colyte," I answered without hesitation.

Emmett chuckled. "Yeah, I thought you'd say that. Just be grateful we can administer it through your J-tube, 'cause it tastes fucking awful."

Rosalie stood from behind her desk. "You take Bella for her prep, and I'll meet you in a little while at the monitoring station. I have to check our short-stay couples. Some of them will be due to come out of the tubes, and I need to help Brady set up the recovery room, so he can receive them."

"Okay, we'll see you in about twenty or so minutes."

Rosalie walked out of the office, and Emmett and I followed her until we had to walk down separate corridors.

-oo0oo-

After Emmett helped me to syringe in the Colyte prep solution, we walked through a series of heavy security doors that required retinal scan access.

After climbing a flight of stairs, we entered the monitoring station. It was an elevated platform encased by glass observation windows on three sides. Housed within a large desk were rows and rows of monitors that appeared to display human vital signs. Each monitor was assigned a number from one to twenty. Along the back wall, a network of computers was stacked in a floor to ceiling shelving system. Red and green LED lights blinked rapidly, and a low humming could be heard.

Looking down through the observation window to the floor below, I saw Rosalie was wearing a white lab coat, while working with a young, dark-haired man. The young man was dressed in green scrubs, and they were both standing next to a horizontal stasis tube. The tube was open, and I watched as the unconscious figure of a brunette woman, who was wearing an eye mask and a white gown, was moved from the tube onto a nearby gurney. The woman was then covered with a blanket, and the gurney was wheeled out of the room by another dark-haired man. This other man was also in green scrubs, but he appeared to be much older.

Rosalie moved to stand in front of the adjacent tube and pushed a button on a control panel. The vertical tube lowered itself into a horizontal position. Rosalie pushed another button and the lid slid off horizontally. The body of a blonde male was mechanically elevated from the recess of the tube, so he was level with the gurney. The blonde man, too, was wearing a white gown and eye mask, and I watched with interest as Rosalie injected something into an IV line before removing the cannula. The assistant undid a set of chest and wrist restraints and disconnected some EEG electrodes from a pair of adhesive discs on the man's temples. Using a special slide sheet, the man was rolled from side to side, and moved onto another gurney. After covering him with a blanket, Rosalie wheeled the man out of the room.

"So, this is our short-stay stasis area," Emmett started to explain. "Clients can spend up to two hours maximum in the stasis tubes. If they want to be in there longer than that, they have to go into an immersion tank. Immersion is three times as expensive as the tubes, because the procedure is more involved and we have higher overheads. We have a pretty high turnover rate here."

I watched through the window as the assistant wiped over the insides of the two vacant tubes. Standing nearby, just inside the doorway, I saw a man and a woman who were holding hands. They were dressed in identical white paper gowns with their eye masks perched on their foreheads. I noted they already had IV access and the EEG discs on their temples. When the assistant finished his cleaning duties, he waved the couple over and helped them into the tubes. He proceeded to apply the electrodes and restraints, and then injected something into their IV lines. After pulling down their eye masks, the assistant pushed some buttons, and the procedure I had previously witnessed with the blonde man, was then performed in reverse. This resulted in the stasis tubes reverting to their closed and upright positions.

The assistant then turned and climbed the stairway to join us in the monitoring room.

"Hey, Emmett! Who's this lovely lady you have standing next to you?" the assistant asked with a broad smile.

"Quil, this is my little sister, Bella. You've probably heard me talk about her before."

"Oh, hey. It's nice to put a face to the name. I'm pleased to meet you," he said, and he offered his hand to shake in greeting. "So what brings you here today, into the inner sanctum?" He looked at Emmett with curiosity. "Were you planning to cyber, 'cause I finish my shift in an hour. We could double, if you know what I mean." Quil waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively.

I laughed as I shook his hand, and then watched as Quil quickly moved to sit in a wheeled chair. He scooted the chair along the floor until he stopped in front of a pair of monitors that were labeled 'three' and 'four'.

"Hell, no!" Emmett answered. "Bella might be coming to work for us one day. I was just giving her the employee's tour." I watched Emmett's aura vacillate between yellow and gray revealing that his thoughts were both a half-truth and conservative.

"Well, we could use another pair of hands. Once Em gets those new stasis tubes, business is definitely going to pick up." Quil pushed a series of buttons and tapped on a keyboard. Two sets of vital signs appeared on the screens. Emmett grabbed me gently by the forearm and began to pull me out of the monitoring station.

"We'll keep moving with the tour. Bye, Quil." We walked down the stairs and out into a corridor. "Our procedures for the short-stay tubes are quite different from the immersion tanks, but you'll see that later," he said very quietly.

"Why are you whispering?" I asked.

We pulled up in front of a large, blue sliding door. "Well, apart from you and Jasper, no one else here knows that Rosie and I have a tank in our home, and I'd really like to keep it that way."

"Why."

"The FDA has strict rules regarding how we run our procedures. They like us to keep records on every client, from the drugs we prescribe them, right down to the types of expeditions they use. All the ESME expeditions are required to be pre-approved by the Volturi."

"So, why is that a problem?"

"One of the programs Rosie and I regularly use isn't pre-approved." Emmett said, giving me a wink.

"Oh, okay then." My mind suddenly went in a very bad direction. "Oh, ewww! Please tell me it's not something weird to do with your sex life." I shuddered at the possibilities.

Emmett laughed. "No! It's nothing like that. Jeez, Bella, give me some credit. We're not kinky freaks…" he paused and then muttered, "…much." He burst into laughter again at my expression, which must have been horrified. "I swear it's the truth, Bella. It's just something private and special to Rosie and me, okay."

Throwing his arm over my shoulders, Emmett pushed a button on the wall. As the large, blue door slid to one side, I noticed that the sign on the door said 'Recovery'. As soon as we walked in, we saw Rosalie sitting at the nurse's station to the right. To the left, there were six cubicles in a row, and I could hear voices coming from behind one of the curtains. The older assistant, whom I had previously seen, stepped out from behind the curtain. He smiled as soon as he saw Emmett and walked over to give him a somewhat ridiculous handshake complete with high-fives, and a series of fist and shoulder bumps.

"How's it goin' my man?" Emmett boomed loudly. Rosalie glared and shushed them both, gesturing pointedly to whoever was behind the curtains.

Emmett's expression became sheepish, and he lowered his voice. "Hey, Brady. I'd like to introduce you to my sister, Bella. Bells, this is Brady. He's our longest serving employee, and he's also Quil's dad." Emmett patted Brady firmly on the shoulder.

Before Brady could say anything, a cubicle curtain was abruptly drawn back. The blonde man stood there, and I watched as his psyche quickly went from one of jealousy, to shock, before settling on affection. Green to black and then orange.

"Bella? Wha- what are you doing here?" Standing at the opening was none other than the Devil himself.

Mike Newton.

Mike was still dressed in only a white paper gown which, unfortunately, when lit from the back, didn't leave much to the imagination. Not that seeing him half-naked was new to me. Memories invaded my mind.

_Mike and I had a lot of problems during the last month we were together. He had seemed distracted and stand-offish and less affectionate with me. I had also noticed he'd been paying a lot of attention to Jessica Stanley. I'd had my suspicions about the two of them, which he, of course, had denied, but he always seemed to be staring at her - or more specifically - he stared at her boobs. The lustful vibes that emanated from him whenever she appeared had made me feel inadequate. In the whole time we'd been together, he'd never looked at me in that way._

_On the day of the prom, Mike had phoned me, and we'd had the mother-of-all arguments. I'd told him that I didn't want to go to the prom and had hung up in anger. He had called me back an hour later, and somehow, he managed to sweet-talk me into going. At the prom, I'd had a really enjoyable time, even though I had to spend most of the night out in the hallway, and Mike was frequently missing throughout the evening. My friends would come out into the hallway in groups of three and four at a time to talk with me and to dance, so that I didn't get too lonely or overwhelmed in the crowded gym._

_The last dance of the evening had been a slow, romantic song. Mike had returned to me, and he'd held me close as we danced. Mike's psyche emanated apologies. In that moment, I had thought that everything was going to be all right; we were going to move on together in our lives without the constant presence of Jessica 'my boob size is bigger than my I.Q.' Stanley in the background. I'd thought we could be happy._

_When the song finished, Mike had hugged me tightly. I attempted to kiss him on the lips, but he turned his head, causing me to kiss him on the cheek instead. I knew in that moment, it was over between us. That embrace had been a goodbye. _

_I ran outside in tears and found a ride home with another friend who had chosen to forgo the after-prom party. By the next morning, a 'Dear Bella' letter had been shoved under the door. Mike broke up with me by letter; He was too gutless to say it to my face. A few weeks later, a mutual friend told me that Mike and Jessica were officially 'together', but in my heart of hearts, I knew he'd been seeing her before he'd broken up with me. Betrayal was something I had never known before, so at the time, I was unaware of what it looked like._

The next curtain opened, and standing there, fully-dressed, was Mike's bimbo wife, Jessica. She glared at Mike, and he quickly retreated behind the curtain with a yellow aura of fear surrounding him. Jessica ignored me and casually walked into the cubicle that contained her husband.

_Betrayal gives off a yellow aura. Cowardice does, too._

My abdomen started to feel crampy, and I realized that the Colyte was beginning to have an effect. I tugged on Emmett's sleeve and pointed at my abdomen. I did the universal jiggy dance that indicated I needed the bathroom ASAP - or else I would be faced with a code brown situation. Emmett pointed to a doorway behind the nurse's station, and I shuffle-walked as quickly as I could go; praying to God and every other deity that my butt cheeks and sphincter wouldn't let me down.

-oo0oo-

After ten minutes of explosive agony - in which I cursed both my brother and his co-conspirator wife for ever talking me into their ridiculous scheme - I staggered out of the bathroom stall, feeling drained, a bit lighter and a little sweaty. I freshened up at the mirror with some scented wipes and then made my way back to the Recovery Room.

Unfortunately, I was not in the bathroom long enough to avoid yet another awkward encounter with the Newtons. Jessica was speaking with Rosalie, and she seemed to be organizing their next appointment. Mike was standing next to Jessica, once again looking pissed off and radiating with jealousy. As I walked into the room, his aura became orange again.

Jessica seemed to notice Mike's change in stance and demeanor, and she turned to look at me. Her aura radiated a dark purple color, and I could tell she felt superior to me. She must have thought I was still pining over Mike.

I ignored them both and joined in with Brady and Emmett's conversation. Emmett introduced us properly and again explained that I was just doing a tour of the ESME facility as a potential employee, not as a client.

Finally, after witnessing a tense conversation between Mike and Jessica - as a bored Rosalie looked on - the Devil and his wife left hand in hand with Brady escorting them.

"What was that all about?" Emmett asked as soon as the Recovery Room doors slid shut.

"It seems Jessica can't get enough of Demetri, and Mike's getting a bit envious. She was willing to pay extra if we would bump up their next appointment to Wednesday."

"Who's Demetri?" I asked.

Rosalie walked over to the desk and picked up a tablet PC. Tapping the screen a few times, a picture came up of a black-haired man.

A tall, muscular, naked, black-haired man.

_Why hello, salty goodness!_

"This is Demetri," Rosalie proudly announced. "He's a composite of everything Mrs. Newton finds attractive in a man. Now… this was Demetri a month ago." Rosalie tapped on the screen, and the picture was the same except for one slight difference south of the navel. "Two weeks ago." She tapped the screen again. "And this was today." Rosalie tapped the screen a final time, and I burst into laughter.

"Are you telling me that Jessica is fucking Demetri when she visits ESME?" I snorted in an unladylike fashion. "Wow, who knew Jessica was such a size queen. No wonder Mike was pissed. This guy is everything he isn't. And that thing is… _damn_! I'm a nurse, and I've seen more cock than you can wave a catheter at, but I've never seen one that big in real life. Unless Mike has had a penis extension in the last few years, he is nowhere near that size. Holy shit! Just thinking about it makes my eyes water. Any guy coming after that monster would be like throwing a hotdog down a hallway."

"Well, not really, because it's not real, but yeah… apparently Jessica suggested to Mike that she wanted to try a threesome using ESME. And because Jessica wears the pants in that relationship, he stupidly agreed. It's gotten to the point where Mike is just an onlooker jerking off in the corner, while his wife is getting jack-hammered by a cyber guy, who has a dick that keeps on getting bigger and bigger. Demetri is now probably twice his size… in more ways than one." Rosalie giggled.

"Ugh. Please, stop! No more talking about the Newtons, and their horrid sex life. As it is, I may need to call in Jasper, so he can erase this conversation from my memory, and I can live out the rest of my life, blissfully unaware."

Although I joked, I had to acknowledge that I had felt a slight pang of longing in my heart when I'd seen Mike. I didn't mourn for the man he'd become, but for the sweet boy I'd fallen for so long ago when we'd started dating.

"I'm sorry, Bells. I honestly didn't notice that it was Mike and Jessica, who had come out of the tubes. That must have been really awkward for you," Emmett said, concern lacing his tone.

"Nah… I never get envious when I see my ex with that whore. Sue and Harry always taught us to give our used toys to the less fortunate. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say. They totally deserve each other. It's karma. They're both miserable," I replied with false levity.

The phrase '_the lady doth protest too much_' came to mind, so I decided to give it a rest.

Emmett nodded and chuckled. He was about to say something, when I was suddenly overcome by yet another wave of bowel cramps, and I doubled over. Without preamble, I sprinted off to the bathroom.

-oo0oo-

The tour of the rest of the facility was interrupted by two more volatile visits to the bathroom - in which I cursed my brother, his wife, their parents and their as yet unborn children. I felt as though I lost everything that had entered my digestive system… EVER!

Feeling a bit woozy and wobbly-kneed, I was finally taken into the interview room. The room was black from the floor to the ceiling, and the only piece of furniture was a chair that had been placed in the center of the floor.

"Okay, Bells. Esme is going to ask you a bunch of questions, and you should answer them as truthfully as possible as it will make your excursion more enjoyable."

"What sort of questions?"

"Stuff like, what kind of music you like, what weather you prefer, what traits you like in people, food you want to eat -".

"Food? Will it be possible for me to eat food? I mean like… eat real food besides Jell-O in ESME?"

"Absolutely!" Emmett said earnestly. "You've had dreams before where you've been able to eat; I remember the one you told me about the apples."

For the first time, I started to feel a giddy anticipation about going into ESME, and I couldn't contain the wide grin that I'm sure took over half of my face.

"Why didn't you mention this before? Let's get this show on the road!" I licked my lips and rubbed my hands together in enthusiasm.

Emmett chuckled. "Jeez! If I'd known that the mention of food is what it would take to get you to be enthusiastic about ESME, I would have mentioned it yesterday."

I waved him off impatiently. "Okay, okay, whatever. Less talking, more interviewing! What do I do now?" I was bouncing up and down on my toes with a newly found energy.

"First take off your jacket and come stand over here." Emmett walked over to a space in the far corner of the room and indicated that I should stand with my toes on a fluorescent green line on the floor. He took my jacket from me. "Right, put your arms down by your sides, palms faced outwards. Stand up tall, and look straight ahead. Don't move until you are told." Emmett moved to the door. "I'll be back once the interview is over, and then we'll go home. Just remember to answer truthfully… even if the questions seem a bit strange," he said enigmatically.

Before closing the door behind him, I heard Emmett say the word, "initiate." The lighting in the room dimmed. Suddenly, a network of green laser beams passed over my body, and a pleasant female voice rang throughout the room.

"Scanning… scanning… scanning… scanning… scan completed. Please turn and face the wall."

Again, the network of green laser beams appeared, and they moved from the top of my head to my toes, while I kept as still as possible. Finally, the female voice instructed me to sit down.

As soon as I sat down, a holographic image of a woman materialized in front of me and spoke. "Welcome to Extra-Sensory Metencephalon Expeditions, I am Esme, and I will ask you a series of questions to create your individual personality disk."

The holographic woman appeared to be in her mid-twenties with caramel-colored hair and warm, brown eyes. She was wearing a thigh-length, short-sleeved, black wraparound-style dress that seemed to come from another era. In this day, women rarely wear short dresses, preferring to cover up their I.L. suits with long sleeves and hem lengths that came down to the calves, at least.

"This first series of questions will assess your preferred clothing choices. Please look at the following items and rate each item from zero to ten. Zero being the least desirable and ten the most desirable."

The outfit that Esme was wearing changed to a flowing white and yellow knee-length strapless dress.

"Eight," I called out.

-oo0oo-

On and on, the interview process went. I was asked to rate everything from music, books, animals, TV shows, movies, colors, textures, lighting, vehicles, weather patterns, personalities, facial features, body types, scents, leisure pursuits, food and drinks.

On the drive home, Emmett and Rosalie discussed the different expeditions I might want to try. Rosalie seemed determined to send me to a twenty-first century farm-stay in country New Zealand, or to a skiing adventure in a place called Zermatt in the Swiss Alps. I looked out at the snow covered landscape and wrinkled my nose at the thought of more damn snow.

"Pass."

Emmett was trying to persuade me to go to Disney World Resort, explaining that I didn't necessarily need to go on all the rides or see the sights. He seemed to think I would be happy just staying at the hotel watching movies and ordering room service. I had to laugh. It did sound pretty reasonable to me. The thought of eating food was what made me want to try ESME… despite having no other choice in the matter.

The thing I looked forward to doing most of all would be eating an apple. After losing my stomach and part of my bowel - apples were the one thing I always craved. I craved them so much, I would dream about them. Sitting in the back seat of the snowcat, I imagined the reddest, sweetest and juiciest apples. My mouth began to water, and I silently willed Stephan to drive faster.

-oo0oo-

I was stunned. I was standing in Emmett and Rosalie's basement, and I literally had to pick my jaw off the floor. The immersion tank was like nothing I had ever seen before, and I wondered how in the hell Emmett had managed to get everything into his basement without anyone else knowing. The stairway down into the basement was hidden in the floor inside a large walk-in closet. The basement itself was half the size of the house that stood above it, and there was no natural light. In fact, there was no overhead lighting either. The room had a ghostly-blue glow, and the illumination source came from within the floor and back wall of the immersion tank itself.

The tank was cubed in shape, and it was roughly ten feet tall by ten feet wide and ten feet deep. It was filled to about ankle depth with clear liquid. The blue lighting in the tank gave it an almost fluorescent hue. Emmett was checking a panel at the base of the tank, as Rosalie applied a pair of adhesive EEG dots to my temples. I was dressed in only a fluffy white bathrobe. In the distance, we all heard a phone chime, and Rosalie left the room with a huff to answer the call, explaining that given the late hour, it was most likely one of the ESME employees asking for advice about a problem.

Emmett walked over to a filing cabinet and took out a metal box.

"Bells? Do you wanna come over here and pick out your expedition?" Emmett turned on a small desk lamp and tipped out the contents of the box onto the desk. They appeared to be computer discs in labeled plastic cases.

I walked over to the desk and looked down at the cases. They had names hand-written on them in black marker. I picked up the one that said 'Zermatt, Swiss Alps, CH' and immediately positioned it on the desk as far away from me as possible. Emmett chuckled. He picked through the pile and moved a few others on top of the Zermatt disc, explaining that they too were snow-based excursions. I picked up a case that had 'Farm Muster, Walter Peak High Country, NZ' written on it.

"NZ… Is that New Zealand?" I asked.

Emmett nodded, and I placed the case in the center of the desk. A farm-stay didn't sound too terrible. I picked up the next disc that said 'Extreme canyoneering adventure, Zion National Park, Utah, USA' and quickly moved it onto the reject pile.

"If you're rejecting that, then you definitely don't want this one either." Emmett picked up a case that had the words 'Mammoth Cave, Brownsville, Kentucky, USA,' written on it, and he threw it onto the reject pile.

I nodded in agreement. "I want to go somewhere warm where I can relax and see the sun, not feel like the Earth is going to cave in on me or where I might fall off a mountain. Something a little more sedate, perhaps."

Emmett picked up another case and appeared to read it carefully. "So, I guess 'Escape from Zombie Apocalypse' is not your scene either?" He looked up at me expectantly, but I could see he was radiating mischief from his psyche.

"I know you're joking. That's not what's written on there! Gimme that!" I snatched the plastic case out of his hand and saw that it said 'Disney World Resort, Florida, USA'. I rolled my eyes at him. "So, the room service is good, you say?"

Emmett shrugged his shoulders and then turned to investigate a digital reading at the base of the immersion tank. I turned to watch him and noted the level of blue liquid had risen to waist high, and in one corner of the tank, a fine stream of bubbles was ascending from the bottom of the tank to the surface. I looked down at the six remaining disc cases on the desk and read their titles. Formula one racing tour, World cup soccer tour, Red Bull air racing, The Isle, African safari and Dakar Rally. I picked up the case labeled 'The Isle'.

"Hey, Em?"

"Yeah."

"What's the isle?"

Emmett stood up and snatched the case out of my hand. "Er…" He took in a deep breath and then let out a heavy sigh. He looked down at the case as he scratched his fingers through the hair at the back of his head. He was stalling and seemed to be debating with himself. Finally, he scrubbed his hand over his face and exhaled a resigned sigh.

"Remember I told you earlier today about an excursion that was really special to me and Rosie?"

I nodded.

"Well… this is it." He held it up and then absentmindedly tapped the corner of the case on his chin a few times.

"What's so special about it?"

"This disc is the reason why our personal immersion tank was built. Do you remember how Rosie and I didn't get to go on a honeymoon?"

I nodded again. "Yeah, I remember. The business was starting up, and neither of you could afford to take time off work."

"Right. So, anyway… to make it up to Rosie, I wrote this expedition for her, and for our second anniversary, I surprised her with our very own honeymoon getaway. It's a beach house on a private island, and every year, on our anniversary - this is where we go… just Rosie and me. Mostly, we hang out on the island by ourselves, but if we feel like doing more, there's the mainland which is a five minute trip by boat or Jet Ski, or we can take the boardwalk."

"Wow… that sounds really wonderful. What a beautiful thing to do for Rosalie, you really are a big romantic softy," I teased. Emmett gave me a small smile and looked at the disc case. We were silent for about a minute while Emmett appeared to be in turmoil about something, and I tried to avoid staring wistfully at the object of my desire in his hand. Emmett put the disc case in his jacket pocket and then turned once again to check the immersion tank.

I turned back to the desk and looked at my two available choices - A New Zealand farm or Disney World Florida. Neither of them sounded as idyllic as a tropical island, but I pretty much figured Rosalie and Emmett's honeymoon disc was verboten.

"So… have you made up your mind yet?" Emmett was standing behind me and looking over my shoulder.

I picked up the disc marked 'Disney World Resort'. For a girl who hadn't eaten any real food, besides Jell-O and lollipops - room service sounded like a good thing for a person who couldn't cook, because I'd never needed to. I turned around and handed the case to Emmett. In that moment, we heard Rosalie approach as she made her way down into the basement. I turned to watch her come down the stairs.

"Are we almost ready?" Rosalie called out as she stepped off the bottom step.

"Almost." Emmett replied as he made his way behind the back of the tank. "Is everything okay at work?"

"Sort of… Brady got a call from a guy claiming there was a family emergency for the Varners, so he took them out of the tank. It turns out the call was from their asshole son who's always calling them for credits to cover his gambling debts. The Varners were pissed because they got pulled out of their expedition a few days early over a bogus call, so they wanted some compensation, even though they never included their son on their 'do not wake list'," Rosalie explained, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "So, Bella… what did you pick?" she asked somewhat excitedly.

"Disney World," Emmett and I said simultaneously.

"Oh, you'll love Disney World. There's so much fun stuff to do there. So many people to meet," Rosalie enthused.

"Okay, tanks full now, and the program is loading. Do you have Bella's personality disc with you?"

Rosalie pulled a mini-disc case out of her pocket and passed it to Emmett. Emmett walked around to the back of the tank again.

"Right, so as you can see, this is the immersion tank," Rosalie began, "and the substance you can see in the tank is oxygenated perfluorocarbon saline or LiquiVent medium. Initially, when you get inside the tank, we will give you oxygen at twenty-one percent concentration to breathe in through a mouth piece. Once you are under the surface, I'll slowly change you over to Xenonox, which is a combination of Xenon and oxygen. The narcotic effect of the Xenon will gradually render you unconscious. I will then remove the mouthpiece, and you will unconsciously begin to breathe in the LiquiVent. We've found that this is the best way to promote liquid breathing, as it can be a bit disconcerting when you're fully aware. Most people tend to gag or have a panic attack if they are conscious. Once you are comfortably liquid breathing - I'll start the ESME program, and through the EEG dots, your midbrain will be stimulated to put you into REM sleep. The lights you see in the floor and back wall of the chamber are what triggers lucid dreaming. The lights actually change colors, but you will not consciously see them. You may, however, occasionally notice flashes of colored light during your expedition. Any questions so far?"

"The stasis tubes weren't like this. Why do I have to be suspended in that stuff?"

"There are several advantages. First, you aren't going to be moving around much for the next month. In a stasis tube, you'd end up with pressure sores or nerve compression injuries, unless we regularly had someone physically turning you side to side every two hours, which just isn't practicable. Furthermore, we'd have to wash you regularly. Secondly, this type of ventilation is kinder on the lungs. You won't end up with a vocal cord injury, which is something that can occur with normal endotracheal mechanical ventilation. You're also less likely to suffer with a case of hypostatic pneumonia."

"How will I be nourished while I'm in there?"

"We'll just use your permanent peripheral port and administer TPN as no waste will be produced. With most people staying in a tank for more than a week, we normally have to put in a PICC or CVC line."

"OKAY! We… are… ready!" Emmett's voice boomed from behind the tank just before he reappeared. He moved to stand before me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Bella, I want you to make the most of this expedition. Don't just sit around doing nothing for a month. You really need a break from being _you._ ESME will let you do that if you just let it. Try to have some fun - be a little adventurous." Emmett then gave me a hug. He seemed to stand us in such a way that he could keep an eye on Rosalie as she ascended a ladder to a metal platform at the top of the tank. As soon as Rosalie had her head turned, Emmett whispered quietly into my ear.

"There's someone in there that I think you're going to be pleasantly surprised to meet." I pulled my head back to question him, but Emmett just shook his head slightly and put his index finger up to his lips to shush me. Then he whispered, "Please, don't tell Rosie."

_Huh? What's that supposed to mean?_

Emmett released me, and Rosalie told me it was time to climb the ladder.

"Love you, Sis. Remember what I said." He gave me a wink, and I smiled. "I'll see you in a month." He then turned and ascended the basement stairs.

As soon as the door was closed behind Emmett, I made my way up the ladder until I was standing on the metal platform. I peered down into the immersion tank from above. Although the LiquiVent medium looked cold, due to the blue light that shone from the base of the tank, warmth radiated from its surface.

"Any last questions?" Rosalie asked.

I honestly had a million and one questions, but I knew it was getting late. Emmett and Rosalie needed to get some sleep before he left early in the morning. I was about to say 'no' when I decided to raise just one more concern.

"What if I don't like it in there, and I want to get out early?"

Rosalie laughed. "Seriously, Bella… ESME is better than real life! However, in the unlikely event you want to get out - just go to the lobby of the Disney Grand Floridian Resort. In the center of the lobby, there is a table with a large green vase on it. Just move the vase from the center of the table and the ESME program will pull you out of REM sleep, and you'll wake up."

I nodded. "Okay - good to know."

"Right. You'd better give me a hug now before you take your robe off. I have no desire to hug you while you're naked."

I laughed and gave Rosalie a hug. Turning away, I removed the bathrobe and handed it back to her. I sat down on the edge of the platform, so my feet and calves were dangling in the LiquiVent. It felt lovely and warm, and I swished my legs in the slightly viscous liquid.

Rosalie then proceeded to connect me to the TPN. Next, she fixed the EEG monitoring leads to the dots on my temples.

"Here… this is the breathing apparatus. Put it in and start breathing in and out through your mouth only." Rosalie passed me a length of intertwined tubes that connected into a single mouthpiece with a round, black filter on the back. "Any last words?"

"Don't forget to pick up my laundry," I joked.

"Be serious…"

"Any last words? You make it sound like this is a bad thing." I laughed nervously as I stared down at the LiquiVent.

"Bella, I swear you will have a good time. You know they used to call Disney World 'the happiest place on Earth'. So, go and be happy… or else I'll personally come in there and kick your ass," she said jokingly and then gently tapped my thigh with her foot.

"I'm ready. Let's go." I placed the silicone mouthpiece into my mouth and held onto it with my teeth. I practiced breathing in and out.

"When you get into the tank, close your eyes, and allow yourself to sink under the surface, and then just breathe normally through the mouthpiece. When the mixture in the circuit starts to change over to Xenonox you'll hear a chime-like sound, and after about a minute you'll start to feel a little dizzy and drowsy. Just continue to take breaths at a normal rate and depth, okay?"

I nodded and twisted the top half of my body around and braced my hands on the edge of the platform. I lowered myself into the tank until I was up to my neck in the LiquiVent medium. Stubbornly, I clung to the edge of the platform with my fingertips. The idea of fully submerging my body, head and all, into the warmth of the LiquiVent, made me feel as though I was about to be reborn. I felt as though I was about to go into a virtual womb, and like a newborn, I would enter a new world with no idea of what to expect. I released one hand and gave Rosalie the 'okay' signal. Then I closed my eyes. A single tear escaped from the corner of my eye, and I felt it run down the side of my face.

Finally, I let go.

* * *

**A/N – Song inspiration – Soma by Smashing Pumpkins.**

**Woohoo. Now were finally getting somewhere!**

**My usual thanks to all who have reviewed. Sorry about the review reply fail. FFN didn't want to play nicely when I tried to reply. FFN has days like that, and I just don't have the time to faff around.**

**If you saw this story recommended somewhere, I would really appreciate it if you could mention where you saw it, so I can send a message of thanks.**

**B-o-B xxx**

**Let me know what you think… **

_Pretty please with sugar on top._

**l**

**l**

**V**


	10. With Or Without You

**A/N – I don't own Twilight. If I did… Edward wouldn't have had 'bronze' hair. He would have had a hair color that people could easily identify, so he wouldn't have been mistaken for a ginger.**

* * *

_Finally, I let go._

-oo0oo-

**With Or Without You**

_Friday, 25__th__ May 2412 (one month later)_

_Bubbles? Thank God._

I suddenly remembered where I was, and willed myself to swim to the surface.

_Which way is up again?_

My relief at coming home was short lived. My lungs burned from the effort it took to breathe.

_I can't breathe! I can't breathe properly! _

I recalled I was in a tank of LiquiVent, and that meant I wouldn't die from drowning, but right then and there, I knew I needed to get out. In a panic, I tried to flail my limbs about, but only achieved a slight twitch in my little finger. I attempted to scream; no sound escaped.

Just then, I felt hands touch my shoulders. The hands hooked underneath my arms, and they pulled me upwards. My head suddenly broke through the surface, and I heard Rosalie's muffled voice.

"Bella! Bella! Listen to me. I need you to cough… really hard."

I couldn't see properly. Everything was a blur of color and indistinct shapes. I attempted to raise my hand to wipe the viscous fluid from my face, but I couldn't move.

_Fuck! I'm paralyzed!_

I tried to draw in a breath, but it felt as though my lungs were filled with lead. Rosalie let out a cry of frustration, as her grip slipped from under my left arm. My head fell under the surface again, and I felt as though I might die.

_Maybe it's better this way…_

Another pair of hands, bigger and stronger this time, gripped both of my arms, and I was again hoisted into the air. My head broke the surface, and this time I could hear Emmett's commanding yet calm voice.

"I've got you, Bella. Rosie, grab me a Guedel, a Yankauer, a suction catheter, an O2 mask and a robe."

I heard Rosalie's feet as she moved along the metal platform and descended the first few rungs of the ladder. Rosalie let out a small grunt, and then I heard the sound of her bare feet as they slapped on the concrete floor as she ran. In her haste, I presumed she must have jumped from halfway down the ladder.

Emmett hauled me up farther until I was onto the platform above the immersion tank. I was slumped awkwardly against his chest, and still I was unable to move. I began to feel as though I was oxygen deprived, but only because it felt unnatural not to inhale or exhale at will.

I heard the sound of Rosalie's feet on the rungs of the ladder as she ascended to the platform again.

"Here."

Rosalie thrust something into Emmett's hand, and I felt her position me onto my side, tilting my head down. Fluid began to pour out of my nose and mouth. A piece of suction equipment, that I assumed was a Yankauer sucker, began to capture the LiquiVent that seeped out as it passively rose from within my lungs. I was then hurriedly rolled onto my back. The metal of the platform beneath me chilled the skin along my spine; however, I was unable to shiver.

Emmett instructed me to open my mouth, but forcefully shoved his fingers between my lips, regardless of my compliance. Immediately, a Guedel pattern airway was shoved into my mouth and rotated into position. I heard the hiss of a suction catheter as it came closer to my face.

A sensation that I can only liken to having a red-hot poker threaded into my trachea, finally elicited a response from my body. My chest began to convulse and spasm. Emmett mercilessly continued to ram the flexible silicone suction catheter in and out of my airway, sucking out the LiquiVent.

Suddenly, I was aware that my tongue could move again, and I tried in vain to force the offending piece of hard plastic from between my teeth. The Guedel airway made me want to gag, but Emmett firmly held it in place.

Finally, I managed to suck in a breath of air, and I started to cough. More fluid poured into my mouth, and I tried to maneuver my tongue to expel the fluid around the Guedel.

Thankfully, Emmett stopped his torturous abuse of my lower airways, and he removed the Guedel, allowing me to continue to expectorate the rest of the LiquiVent naturally. Once again, the Yankauer sucker was in my mouth, removing the LiquiVent as I coughed it up.

I began to shiver from the cold, and Rosalie draped me with a bathrobe. Once I stopped coughing up the LiquiVent, an oxygen mask was placed over my mouth and nose.

"Just take in slow, deep breaths, Bella," Rosalie instructed.

I lay there on my side greedily sucking in the oxygen in rapid gasps.

"Bella, slow down. Stop hyperventilating or you're going to get dizzy," she insisted.

I slowed down my breathing slightly, but still I continued to tremble.

"We need to get down from here," Emmett said. Wrapping the robe tightly around me, he cradled me into his arms and shuffled his body to the edge of the platform. He then tossed me over his shoulder like a sack and carefully made his way down the ladder. Rosalie followed closely behind, carrying the portable oxygen cylinder that was attached to the tubing of the oxygen mask.

As Emmett carried me up the stairs into the main part of the house, my mind began to clear, and the grief washed over me anew.

_I know none of it was real, but it felt real - he felt so real._

As soon as Emmett placed me down on the bed, I began to cry. My body was racked by sobs.

"Bella, it's okay. You'll get the use of your limbs back in a few minutes. It's just a case of Cataplexy. Your mind is awake but your body hasn't caught up yet. It's an uncommon post-ESME side-effect, but it always resolves within half an hour," Emmett explained while gently rubbing a towel over my face and hair. Rosalie used another towel to wipe my arms and legs, exposing each limb one at a time from beneath the robe that was still draped over me.

"It's not that," I croaked between sobs. My voice sounded strange to my own ears - partially due to the oxygen mask but mostly because I hadn't actually used my vocal cords in a while.

"What is it then?" Emmett asked curiously.

My vision began to clear, and I could see the uncertainty surrounding him. I gave Emmett what I hoped was a meaningful expression to indicate that I couldn't speak to him with Rosalie in the room. If I said anything damning, he would get into trouble with his wife. She would find out that he'd swapped the disks.

Emmett caught on quickly. "Rosie?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind calling Stephan? I'd like you to head over to Bella's place to get a few things for her. I really think she should stay with us for the weekend, at least. I've missed her while we've been gone, and I'd like to spend a day or so catching up and keeping an eye on her."

"Um… yeah, sure," Rosalie replied and she stood to leave the room.

"We need to talk," he said.

I just nodded minutely in agreement as he wiped away my tears.

"Is there any movement coming back to your limbs yet?"

I tested out my arms and found I could shrug my shoulders. I flexed at the elbows and wrists and then clenched my hands into fists. Moving on to my legs, I wriggled my toes, circled my ankles and bent at the knees and hips. I lifted my head off the pillow and tucked my chin onto my chest.

"Okay, let's sit you up on the edge of the bed."

Taking care to prevent the robe from exposing me - even though he had seen me fully naked when he'd physically pulled me out of the tank - Emmett turned my upper body ninety degrees clockwise on the bed. He simultaneously dragged my hips across so that my lower legs ended up hanging over the edge. He then pulled me forward by the shoulders, so I was in a sitting position.

"Just sit here for a bit and wriggle your feet," he instructed as he sat next to me and placed his right arm over my shoulder for support.

I bent forward slightly and looked down, checking to see if my toes actually wriggled. I cringed at the sight of my lower legs. Closing my eyes, I sat up straight and then leaned up against the side of Emmett's body as he continued to hold the robe in place.

Rosalie entered the room carrying my house keys. She was nervously flicking the front door key from side to side on its key chain. "Stephan's on his way. What do you need me to get?"

"Um… just some clothes and my pillow. My feeding pump, some enteral feed flasks, of course, and some toiletries. I really need a razor, too," I said, my voice sounding slightly less husky than before.

Emmett's psyche brimmed with fear and distress, and I suddenly realized that what I had said could be taken the wrong way. Given my current demeanor and recent track record with the PTSD, I could understand how it might have seemed.

"It's so I can shave my legs… and under my arms." To punctuate my meaning, I lifted my right leg slightly and modeled a hairy leg that would probably scare feral animals. Emmett visibly relaxed but his psyche still radiated with concern.

In a way, Emmett had a right to be worried. I had no idea how I was ever going to come to grips with what had happened. Losing _him_ had felt worse than losing Charlie and Carlisle combined. My heart and mind were still reeling from the devastation.

_Why on Earth did I stupidly allow myself to fall in love when I knew he wasn't real? How can I go on living without him? Anyone coming after him will pale in comparison. I'll never love another; he's ruined me for anyone else. I'll never recover._

There was a knock at the front door, and after giving Emmett a chaste goodbye kiss, Rosalie turned and left the room.

"How are you feeling," Emmett asked after we had sat on the edge of the bed for about five minutes.

"A bit weak, but I think I could stand with some assistance."

"Here… let's take this off." Emmett removed the oxygen mask from my face, and I felt less claustrophobic.

Bracing my hands against the edge of the bed, I rocked back and forth three times to obtain the necessary momentum to stand. Emmett stood before me and held on to both of my upper arms to assist me. I stood and slowly straightened, allowing my head to adjust to the dizzy sensation that came in a rush. The vertigo gradually ebbed away as Emmett continued to hold on to me. He pinned the robe to the front of my body at my shoulders. Taking in a few deep breaths, I managed to turn myself, so my back faced Emmett. He draped the robe over my shoulders, and I slipped my arms into the long, fluffy sleeves. I then tied the sash around my waist.

"Do you think you can walk?"

I nodded and slowly turned to face him. Again, he placed his right arm around my shoulders, and I put my left arm around his waist. We then held hands, his left hand holding my right, as if we were about to dance, and with slow, wobbling steps, we walked out of the spare bedroom and down the hallway. As we entered the living room, he walked me over to the sofa and gently guided me into the seat.

I sighed in relief. My legs burned from the muscle fatigue, though I'd barely walked thirty feet. Emmett took a seat next to me on the sofa.

"Bella?" I turned to look at Emmett, and he continued, "What's going on? Why are you so upset?"

For a few minutes, I couldn't speak. I honestly didn't know where to begin.

"I fell in love with the man from the lighthouse…" I said by way of explanation.

Emmett looked confused, and I could see he honestly had no idea of the person I was referring to.

"Who?"

"You know… the man that was living in the lighthouse, not far from the waterfall and the rock pool."

"Bells, I know the lighthouse, but no one lives there-"

"Yes, someone lived there!" I said insistently. "There was a man called Edward on the island, and he lived in the lighthouse. He said he was like a caretaker or something for the island. He-"

Emmett interrupted me. "Bella… no one lives on the island. All the characters in the expedition reside on the mainland," he said in a soothing and yet slightly condescending tone while holding onto my hand. It was a tone that an adult might adopt when trying to convince a small child that the monster in the closet wasn't real.

"He was there, Emmett! I swear he was living in the lighthouse. At first, he was downright annoying and arrogant, but then he became my friend and we…" I stopped my insistent rant. I could see Emmett didn't believe I was in my right mind. A blue aura of pity surrounded him. He didn't understand, and I burst into tears again.

Emmett moved to embrace me. "Bella. I don't know what to tell you. I have no idea of what you are talking about. Please understand, I wrote every piece of code for that expedition, and there was no island caretaker called Edward."

"Then who did you intend for me to meet? Right before I said goodbye to you and got into the immersion tank… your words were, 'there's someone in there you're going to be surprised to meet'."

"I was talking about Mom!"

"What?"

"It was Mom… that's who I wanted you to meet. I wrote Mom into the expedition. I took all the memories I had of her, and I made her the owner of the dress store on the mainland."

"What? Why?"

"When Rosie and I got married, she said she was sad that she would never get to meet my parents, so I wrote them into the expedition for her. Mom was the owner of the dress store, and my dad was the owner of the boat at the marina."

"Oh my God!"

"Did you meet them?"

I nodded. To think, I'd actually met my own mother, or at least Emmett's recollection of her, and I never realized who she was. The fact that the store was called 'Renee's' didn't even register at the time, and I shook my head at my stupidity. An image of Renee flashed in my memory. She was standing before me - telling me how pretty I looked in my dress. I'd never even seen a photo of her, so how was I to know? My tears poured forth, and my body heaved with sobs.

"So, I guess if you met Mom… did you buy a dress?"

"My dream dress," I sobbed. "I was wearing my dream dress, and when Edward saw me, h- he-"

"He proposed and then Mom told you that her husband was the captain of the boat, right?"

I nodded. "Yes, and while Edward and I were offshore on the boat the Captain-"

"Married the two of you," Emmett finished for me.

My throat felt so tight I couldn't speak.

Emmett sighed.

"On the actual day of our anniversary, Rosie and I always go into the dress store, and Mom fusses over her. She tells Rosie how beautiful she is, and that she should try on some dresses. Mom finds Rosie the perfect wedding dress - the one that makes her feel like a fairytale princess, and while we're in the store, I ask her to marry me. Then Renee tells us how her husband is the captain of 'The Eclipse', and it is the biggest boat at the marina. She calls him and says he can marry us on the boat in the early evening, just offshore."

On hearing the word '_princess_' my heart clenched painfully within my chest.

_Edward used to call me that._

At first Edward used to say it to tease me for being such a girl; too afraid of trying anything risky, but then he called me '_his princess_'. I was his princess, and he was my hero.

I couldn't stop crying.

"Shit, Bella. I'm so sorry." After a few minutes, Emmett continued. "I had no idea that particular part of the expedition would actually play out for you. I thought you could just meet Mom and perhaps talk to her - get to know her a little. I had hoped that you could come to know as much of her as I could remember… and partially how I imagined she would be… had she lived, of course."

Emmett released another heavy sigh.

"Whenever Rosie and I go to The Isle, we always get married. We renew our vows, but each year Rosie wears a different dress, and we change our promises to each other. Sometimes we get silly, but mostly we are serious, and every single time it's been special. Some people say the day they got married was the happiest day of their life. So how many people can say they get to live that moment more than once with the same person? I'm the luckiest bastard on the planet because Rosie chooses to marry me every year, and those vows are our ongoing commitment to one another. I still don't know who this Edward character was, but he may have become a part of your expedition to fulfill a specific role. The expedition called for a wedding, and logically, that suggests you needed a groom…" he trailed off and then shrugged. "I'm only guessing here, Bells, 'cause I just can't explain it otherwise - there is no Edward."

I wiped at my tears and looked at my brother. "So you think that my mind made up someone for me to fall in love with, only to have him leave me without a word? Without any warning?"

Emmett was about to answer, but he was stopped by the sound of the front door opening. Lowering his voice he implored, "I know this is probably a really unfair thing to ask of you, because of what I've put you through, but please don't mention any of this to Rosie."

I nodded in understanding and acceptance of his request. Emmett had no prior notion that what had occurred on The Isle was going to happen. His heart had been in the right place, and he had merely given me what I had secretly wanted. He'd known as soon as he'd told me about The Isle that it had been my desire to experience what it had to offer. I just had to live with the repercussions of what it had given me… and consequently, had taken away.

Rosalie rounded the corner with Stephan, and they took my belongings into the spare bedroom. Rosalie then walked back through the living room; she was carrying four overnight flasks of enteral feed through to the kitchen. I heard the sound of the refrigerator being opened and items being rearranged - probably to make room for the flasks.

On reappearing at the doorway to the living room, Rosalie eyed me carefully before saying, "Jeez, Emmett! You could have at least walked Bella to the cleansing chamber to get cleaned up. Her hair looks as though it's going to set like rock."

I lifted my hand to my head, and I could feel that parts of my hair felt dry, but the strands were glued to each other in clumps.

"Bella just needed to get her bearings and her co-ordination. She's still a bit weak. Now that you're back, you can help to set her up in the cleansing chamber. I'm going to go downstairs and clean up the basement."

"Okay then. Just give me a minute or two, Bella, and I'll grab your toiletries. I'll also put a chair in the chamber for you to sit on if you don't feel up to standing," she said.

"Yeah, that's probably best," I agreed.

-oo0oo-

"Rosalie?"

"Mmhm," she answered while looking at my reflection in the vanity mirror.

"Before… when we were in the spare room - I just realized that Emmett said something strange. When he asked you to gather my things from my place, he said, 'I've missed her while we've been gone'. What did he mean by that? Were you not here?"

Rosalie stopped brushing my hair and moved to face me.

"Three days after Emmett left, Jasper came to stay with me - to keep me company. I had told Jasper on the phone how miserable I was without Emmett, and when he turned up on the doorstep, he took one look at me and told me to leave to be with Emmett. Jasper offered to stay at the house and take care of the business. He is our silent partner, and he said it was about time he took on a bit more responsibility, instead of just one weekend a month. I had to tell Jasper that you were down in the basement, so he promised to watch out for you, too. He was the one who monitored the tank and made sure everything was working properly. He also ensured that your TPN flasks were changed over each day."

"Oh… I see."

"I took a transport to meet Emmett, just as he was finishing up with the dismantling and transportation of the stasis tubes. We had a three week working holiday; scouting for new sites for the expansion. We were only home for about an hour while we unpacked and cleaned up, and then I went down into the basement to start the reemerging sequence. You woke up, but you weren't moving on your own, so I pulled you out of the LiquiVent. You were so limp and slippery that I couldn't hold on properly, so I called out for Emmett to help me. Normally, people just wake, swim up to the surface and cough out the LiquiVent. When I saw that you weren't moving, I panicked. Emmett, Brady and Quil have all seen cases of Cataplexy before, but you were my first."

"Yeah. It was almost like the stories you hear of how people have woken up from an anesthetic in the middle of an operation, and they couldn't tell anyone they were awake." I shivered at the memory of feeling so helpless, unable to move, cough or see properly.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Rosalie said regretfully, "it must have been awful."

_Yeah, well that was hardly the worst part. Try having your heart ripped out of your chest and then stomped on by a figment of your imagination_, I thought sadly; however, I remained silent.

"Well, maybe it won't happen next time, or at least we'll be more prepared for it," she said thoughtfully.

The thought of going on another expedition made my blood run cold. "Um… I don't think so, Rosalie."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I don't want to experience that again… there won't be a next time."

I could tell that Rosalie had a million and one questions as to why I didn't want to go on another expedition. To protect Emmett, I couldn't tell her the truth. I had to come up with a plausible reason why I would never dip so much as a toe in the immersion tank ever again.

"You were right… ESME in many respects _is_ better than life. In fact, it's too good, and for someone like me, coming back to reality is really hard." While what I was saying was true, it was the heavily censored version of what had actually happened. "Take food, for instance - I had a three-course meal… all desserts."

Rosalie smiled. "That sounds really cool. I should do that sometime-"

Before I could answer, I steeled myself at the onslaught of memories that threatened to make me cry again.

"That's just the thing, though. You _can_ do that - even in real life. You could have a three-course meal of anything. Whereas I get to come back to this…," I said, as I swept my fingers over the small lump that sat underneath the skin of my forearm - my permanent subcutaneous IV port. "And this..." I placed my hand over my abdomen - the place where my J-tube protruded through the skin, and chaotic ribbons of pink scars marked the many operations I'd endured.

"I guess I never thought of it like that. It must be like coming off an incredible high."

I nodded. Food hadn't been the high, though - it had been Edward, and I had crashed two days ago.

"I'm really tired now. I think I'd like to take a nap."

"Sure, I'll help you walk.

-oo0oo-

"Bella! Wake up!"

It was a male voice. Someone was shaking me gently, but insistently.

"Edward? Is that you?"

"Who's Edward?"

_Huh? What is Rosalie doing here? I must be dreaming._

"It's nothing. She's just dreaming."

"Are you making breakfast?" I called out. The bed was in complete disarray. I reached over to his side to grab for his pillow. The pillow and sheets felt cold, and I wondered how long he'd been awake. "Come back. I'm getting cold." I giggled. I wanted him to warm me up again.

"Bella, It's Emmett! Wake up now!"

_Emmett? Not Edward… where's Edward?_

I was confused. I clumsily rolled off the bed and grabbed the silky black chemise that barely covered my ass from the floor. I held it up in front of me in disgust. The spaghetti-thin straps that had once crisscrossed over my spine had been torn apart. The garment was unsalvageable.

"Where are you?"

_Hmmm. This is becoming an inconvenient habit. I quite liked this one, too… but then, so did he_, I mused, recalling his reaction the night before.

I tossed the ruined garment over my shoulder and strolled toward the kitchen to find him. _I'm gonna have some words with that man_. I grinned, and I briefly thought about starting up an argument just so we could have make-up sex. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

"Come on… I'm not in the mood for hide and seek. Answer me!"

_Hmm that's weird. I can't hear him anywhere. Maybe he's outside taking a swim?_

I walked outside to the deck, and there was no sign of Edward. Then I walked down to the beach. The sun hid behind some clouds, and I began to feel the cold, so I walked back inside the house.

Still no sign of him.

_Maybe he went to the mainland for supplies?_

I got dressed and walked to the boardwalk where the jet skis and the boat were moored to see if he'd taken one of them. Neither of the skis was missing, and the boat was still there.

_Perhaps he walked into town along the boardwalk._

I headed back to the house and started to tidy up. I washed the dishes left from the night before and tidied the kitchen. I moved back into the bedroom and picked up my clothes from the floor. I looked for Edward's clothes, but couldn't see any, and when I looked in the hamper, there were only my clothes in there. I headed over to the closet, and that was when I noticed all of his clothes were gone. My heart raced in panic.

"Edward!" I screamed.

"Bella, for god sake, wake up!" Emmett yelled.

I opened my eyes, and Emmett was shaking me. His expression was one of desperation, and Rosalie was standing behind him looking somewhat determined. I burst into tears, and Emmett hugged me tightly.

"Oh God, Bella. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I had no idea." He sobbed, and I had to shut my eyes to shield myself against his anguish.

"It's not your fault," I whispered. "I don't blame you at all. It's just _me_."

Emmett shook his head. "I should have known. I shouldn't have..."

We held each other for a while until we both managed to get some semblance of control over our emotions. When we pulled out of our embrace, we realized Rosalie was no longer in the room.

"Rosie?" Emmett called out.

I heard Rosalie as she walked down the hallway. She was speaking to someone.

"Hey, Uncle Alistair, it's Rosalie. How are you?" There was a pause as Rosalie listened to his reply, and then she appeared in the doorway. She held a portable phone to her ear. "Great; that's good to hear. Um... the reason I'm calling is that I wanted to know if Jasper was still in town or has he already left?" Another pause and I watched as the disappointment cast a shadow over her face. "Damn. Okay, well, the reason I wanted to see Jasper is that we have a slight problem here." There was a pause and then Rosalie continued. "Emmett's sister has been going through some really rough shit lately, and we're both concerned for her. Would you mind coming to the house to see her?"

I looked at Rosalie, incredulous that she would take such a bold step as to arrange for Jasper or his father to come to see me. Rosalie just turned her back on me and continued the conversation.

"Yeah, lately she's been through a fair bit of grief. She lost her father and then a close colleague. Both deaths were sudden and under violent circumstances. She's on the cusp of PTSD and has already been hospitalized once. Em and I persuaded her to try ESME, thinking it might help, but she's just ended up traumatized by it."

I was about to jump off the bed with the intention of grabbing the phone from her grasp to throw it against the wall, when Emmett stopped me.

"Think about it, Bella," he said quietly. "Edward never existed, but somehow he still managed to hurt you. Alistair could make the memories of him go away. Do you want to go on being miserable over someone who isn't real? You'd have nothing to lose, but the pain. This could be a good thing."

He was right. I could use Alistair's talent as an Eraser to get Edward out of my head. When I'd heard Rosalie talk about Charlie and Carlisle, I had presumed that she meant I would want to delete them from my memory, but there was no way in Hell that I would ever disrespect the memories of either of them, even in death. Charlie and Carlisle existed, and they didn't intentionally leave me - they were taken from me. I would never wish to lose my memories of them.

However, I couldn't live with the memories of Edward - both good and bad - and I couldn't go on living in a world where he didn't exist. He belonged to a life that was impossible. He wasn't real.

I slumped back onto the bed and closed my eyes. I listened as Rosalie made arrangements for Stephan to bring Alistair to the house within the hour.

-oo0oo-

"Are you sure this is what you want, Bella?"

I looked up at Alistair from my supine position on the bed. He knelt over me and looked me straight in the eyes, to search for any doubts. I nodded in response to his question and then added, "Absolutely."

"Then close your eyes for me."

I closed my eyes, and I felt Alistair's warm hands touch my face. He spread his fingers widely over my forehead and carded them into my hairline. His thumbs gently rested over my eyelids.

"Bella, I want you to remember the first time you saw the person you wish to forget. Can you do that for me?"

I nodded and cast my mind back to that moment; that very first sight.

_I had walked for twenty minutes along the shoreline toward the formidable white lighthouse with the bright-red door and red cupola. When I turned the door handle, I was surprised to find how easily the door had swung open. It was dark inside, and it had taken some time for my eyes to adjust to the gloomy interior. I saw the spiral staircase and decided to ascend._

_About three quarters of the way up the staircase, I came across two rooms. The signs on the door's read 'Watch Room' and 'Service Room'. I opened the first door and found a large-sized room that contained a chair, a desk, a bed and a nightstand. On the desk sat some empty journals, a pair of scissors, and a large pair of brass and leather sheathed binoculars sitting in a felt-lined case. The small bed had a sleeping bag spread out over it, and a flashlight sat on the nightstand. I picked up the binoculars from the desk, hung them around my neck and then moved on to the next room. The service room turned out to be a storage area. It contained cleaning supplies and what appeared to be spare parts for the lighthouse beacon. I didn't bother to search through it. I just continued to make my way up toward the beacon._

_When I reached the entrance to the lantern room, I opened the door and was met with a blast wave of heat. Despite the ventilation ball at the very apex of the domed cupola, the room felt as though it was a hundred and ten degrees. As it was the middle of the day, sunlight streamed into the circular glass-walled room that housed the beacon. The air was so dry and stuffy it made it difficult to breathe. Sweat steadily began to weep from my pores, and I felt as though I would melt. Needing some fresh air, I decided to open the door to the widows walk, the narrow platform that ringed the outside of the lantern room._

_The sea breeze that rushed in was a welcomed relief, and it cooled me down instantly. I stepped out onto the walkway and stared out over the blue-green ocean. I lifted the binoculars to my eyes and directed them along the coast. I watched the choppy waves as they crashed into the base of the cliffs, in the distance. I turned and walked to the other side of the lighthouse to take in the landscape. I wanted to get an idea of how vast the island was. I had thought I might walk around the island or even go into the jungle-like foliage that stood behind the house. I had been on the island for four days, and until now, I'd been too scared to trek into the jungle, worried that if I fell or hurt myself, I'd be stranded alone. I wasn't exactly living up to the promise I'd made to Emmett - to be adventurous._

_The problem was; I was beginning to suspect I wasn't alone._

_I lifted the binoculars to my eyes again and stared out over the island. From my vantage point, I could make out the other side where another lighthouse stood. I estimated that it would probably take me a day, perhaps a day and a half to walk all the way around the island - much less if I decided to take the sand buggy. I just needed to work out how to operate it first._

_I saw the boardwalk that linked the island to the mainland. Next to it was the small boat shed that contained the jet skis and the inflatable dinghy with the outboard motor. I had taken the boat to the mainland last night to go dancing, which had turned out to be a bit disappointing. I couldn't get any of the men to leave the club with me. The moment we'd step out of the front door, they would disappear into thin air. It seemed my brother was the ultimate cock-blocker. Obviously, they weren't programmed to leave the club, so I'd come back to the island - alone - or so I'd thought._

_I focused the binoculars on the interior of the island, and that was when I saw him._

_He was cautiously walking barefoot across some rocks heading toward a pool of water at the base of a plunge-waterfall. On reaching the edge of the pool, he stood with his hands on his hips and surveyed the area around him. It was then that I noticed something about him._

_What the fuck? He's wearing my clothes!_

_The previous day, I'd hung some items of clothing over the washing line that was strung between two posts under the front porch. In the morning, I discovered the black sweat pants and gray t-shirt were gone, leaving only the clothes pins, underwear and socks._

_The clothes had been somewhat altered. The legs of the black sweat pants had been cut so that they came down to just above his knees. The sleeves of the t-shirt had been hacked off too, probably because his upper arms would have been constricted like a tourniquet by the hems of the sleeves. The t-shirt was obviously too small, and the bottom hem barely reached his navel._

_I tried to zoom in the binoculars, so I could get a decent look at the face of the thief who had stolen and mutilated my laundry._

"Okay, Bella, keep your thoughts focused on the person and say goodbye," Alistair said. "You're going to feel a little dizzy, and then you'll pass out. When you wake up, you'll have no memory of them."

I conjured the memory of his face in my mind.

I saw his blazing green eyes with the long, thick eyelashes and dark eyebrows. His slightly crooked nose gave his face character but did nothing to detract from his handsome face. I recalled the chiseled jaw line that just begged to be kissed. I remembered his soft lips and delicious tongue that had done wicked things to my body; that had made me want to cry and sing with ecstasy. He had such a cocky, crooked smile that it both infuriated me and made me want to melt. And then there was Edward's ridiculous, untamable hair. His hair was so soft to the touch, and though it looked bronze indoors, it appeared to be interwoven with fiery-red highlights when he was outside in the bright sun.

"Now!"

A sob hitched in my throat.

_Goodbye, Edward. I love you._

"Forget…"

-oo0oo-

_Monday, 28th May 2412_

"Miss Swan… the time is oh-six-thirty. This is your wake-up call. Miss Swan… the time is oh-six-thirty. This is your wake-up call."

I fumbled about blindly and threw the blanket and pillow over my head to block out the harsh, artificial light and the equally irritating voice. I groaned a muffled reply into the pillow.

"Jus' five more minutes."

"Oh no… not this shit again. Move. Your. Ass! Get up, get up, get up, get up!"

"Dear God! Just shut up!"

"Get out of bed! You told me this is what you wanted. You said, 'Alice, don't let me sleep in tomorrow,' so I'm telling you - get the hell up!"

I sat up and disconnected the feed pump, then stumbled my way to the cleansing chamber.

"Hair wash today, Alice," I said as I adjusted my goggles.

"Say 'please'."

_For fuck sake. _

"Plea-"

Without warning, the chamber started up, and my mouth was once again struck with the foul taste of chemicals.

-oo0oo-

Today was supposed to be the start of a good day, but already fate seemed out to get me. I would arrive late to work because the transporter had broken down in the middle of the road. I looked at my watch again and sighed in frustration. I was returning to work after a month away, and I would meet the new physician.

_Way to make a good impression on the new boss. Turn up late…_

I had phoned Angela on Saturday afternoon, and we had hung out at her home while Ben was out for the evening with his buddies. As we watched a movie, Angela mentioned that a new physician had started at the clinic on Friday, and since there were no more scheduled births for some time, she had temporarily been reassigned to work with him as a consultant Diagnostic. I was somewhat bothered to think that my position had been given away in my absence, but Angela had reassured me that I was safe.

"_So are you saying the new doctor doesn't possess a gift - he's not a Diagnostic?"_

"_I think he has some gifts, all right." Angela waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Your workload most likely increased ten-fold the minute Jessica Newton and Tanya Denali both stepped into the clinic to get their annual flu shots. By now, news of the hot single Doc has probably spread, and women will be flocking to get a thorough examination - if you know what I mean..."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

"_Let's just say, if I wasn't married…" she fanned her hand in front of her face, whistled and then giggled. _

"_Angela!"_

"_What? I'm married, not dead. I can look! I just can't… touch." She giggled again._

A call to Professor Caius on Sunday, to inform him of my intention to return to the clinic had been enthusiastically received. I was happy to be returning to work. I only hoped that the new physician and I could develop a solid working relationship. Even if it was half as good as the rapport I'd had with Carlisle, I'd be happy.

A new transporter rumbled up beside us, and the passengers filed out like sheep to board the other vehicle. I stood and waited near my seat as people who had been seated farther back in the transporter, moved past me toward the exit.

"After you," a velvety voice said.

I looked up and saw that a remarkably handsome man with blazing green eyes was holding up the passengers behind him to allow me to file out in front of him.

"Thanks." I smiled gratefully at the stranger.

"You're welcome."

He gave me a small crooked smile that did strange things to my insides, and I blushed like a school girl with a crush. Someone made an impatient noise behind him, and I realized I was holding up the passengers. I moved into the aisle and walked quickly to catch up with the others as they exited the transporter.

On entering the replacement vehicle, I found an empty row near the front and took the seat by the window. I looked down at my watch. By my estimation, I would be at least a half an hour late, and I just prayed that my new boss wouldn't give me any shit over it. I watched as the handsome stranger walked along the aisle, passing the spare seat next to me to sit in one of the rows farther back. Once we were all on board and seated, we were on our way.

After a minute or two, I turned my head slightly to see if I could catch a glimpse of the stranger, but he was seated too far back.

I had no idea of who the man was, but when he'd smiled at me, I'd had the eeriest sensation of déjà vu.

* * *

**A/N – Song inspirations :**

**- With Or Without You – U2**

**- Eraser – Nine Inch Nails**

**Thanks for the kind reviews. Lots of inappropriate love to beckybrit for pimping this story out on her fic "Dark Wolves and Vampire Delights". Mwah xxx**

**Lots of love to Chaz. Just because.**

**O/S Rec – The Genies Cousin by Middlewife. This is the cutest story and just makes you want to go 'awww'. It's a fluffy Jasper/ Bella story, and even though I don't usually like non-canon couples, I really enjoyed reading it. Also give her other story "Through A Glass Darkly" a look-see. Mmmmm CopWard. *Homer drool***

**B-o-B xxx**

**To leave your message click the button, and after the beep **

**one of our fully trained operators will get back to you. **

**In the meantime enjoy this musical presentation.**

**l**

**l**

**V**


	11. Revenge

**A/N - I don't own Twilight. Right now I wish I did, as the extra money would solve a lot of my problems. *sigh***

**Anyhoo… here's a new POV for you all.**

* * *

-oo0oo-

**Revenge**

_Thursday April 12th 2412_

_Volterra Prison Complex_

I was jolted awake by the sound of klaxons as they blared throughout the corridors, alerting the prisoners in the general population that the cell doors were about to open. For me, they merely signaled the beginning of another day in Hell - although you wouldn't imagine Hell to be so fucking cold.

Groggily, I sat up and rubbed at my eyes, and blinked them open; only to be faced with the ever-present phosphene lights - the prisoner's cinema of phantom optic images. They swirled in my vision due to the prolonged light deprivation I've been subjected to over the last few weeks.

It was six o'clock and the start of day number… _whatever_, in 'the hole'. I'd been careless and had lost count of how many days it'd been, but I was reasonably certain that I was close to getting out of solitary confinement within the next day or so. Once again, thanks to Colin Littlesea, I'd been slammed in the hole. I was serving a twenty-one day stint, because I'd tackled a guard during a riot. I'd promised my friend, Jacob Black that I would look out for his seventeen year-old cousin while I was on the inside. So far, Colin hadn't made my job an easy one.

_A brawl between two rival gangs had exploded in the lunch room, and Colin and I were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Since the murder of The Peacemaker, it seemed as though riots were occurring on a regular basis, and as soon as the first dinner tray had sailed through the air, I was up and out of my seat, heading towards the cells. When I'd turned and realized Colin wasn't behind me, or among the rest of the retreating prisoners, I'd run back into the lunch room to look for him. Instead of running away or ducking under a table, the kid had just curled up into a ball on his seat as the cups, trays and chairs whizzed past his head from the opposing gangs. _

_At the entrance of the lunch room, the prison guards had formed a phalanx. They were moving toward the crowd wearing their anti-riot vests, shields and helmets, and were holding their nightsticks at the ready. It was then that I saw that creepy motherfucker, Sergeant 'Freaky' Fred, deliberately single Colin out from the rest of the prisoners. Freaky had zeroed in on the kid since the day he'd been incarcerated. Colin was a young, good-looking boy, and he seemed to be a target for every fucking Chickenhawk in the joint. It had been a constant battle for me, to keep the predators off his virgin ass. _

Besides the klaxons, the only thing that oriented me to the time of the day was the monotony of eating the same damn thing every fucking morning. Breakfast was due to arrive through the hatch in approximately thirty minutes, and my stomach roiled at the thought of starting another day with the vile repast.

Tapioca, also known as 'frogspawn' was the most hated of all foods on the Volterra Prison menu. In my own estimation, it only just beat the overcooked excuse for a vegetable they called cabbage, which regularly appeared on the lunch trays, or the cabbage soup that tasted suspiciously of boiled sweaty socks - or at least how I imagined boiled sweaty socks would taste. Most prisoners, however, know better than to complain. If any prisoner dares to complain about the food, they are punished with the 'food loaf' the next day for all their meals. Food loaf is where all the ingredients of the three meals of the previous day are blended into a single mixture and then cooked into a solid loaf. Apparently, the worst thing about the food loaf is its consistency, which one prisoner likened to, "eating something that's been eaten by someone else before."

I heard the sound of metal keys turning in a lock and suddenly a sliver of light appeared around the edges of the door, and it dimly lit my eight-by-eight cell. I used the limited amount of light to scan the interior of the cell. I needed to find my black button, or I feared I might go completely insane with boredom. Last night, I had resorted to composing haiku poems to keep my mind occupied because I'd lost my button.

I picked up the thin foam sleeping mat off the floor and frantically searched for the small, black metal disk. On my knees, I skimmed my hands over the cold concrete surface of the floor in search of my prized possession.

_Where the fuck is it?_

"Stand against the side wall, Skunk," the guard on the other side of the door ordered, and I quickly stood up and did as I was told. From his voice alone, I knew it was Lieutenant Tyler Crowley, who stood outside. Crowley was the man responsible for trying to break me. I once again vowed that one day I'd get my revenge on the man who has been the bane of my prison existence - both times.

Every time I see his smug face, I want to throat-punch the fucker.

_I first met Lieutenant Crowley after I was captured, the first time, while working as a Resistance field doctor during a raid. I was only eighteen at the time, and I had just healed a through-n-through bullet wound on Peter's upper arm. _

_Though useful on the frontline, using my gift was not without its own price. Every time I heal someone, I'm temporarily left blinded, and it leaves me vulnerable to attack or capture. Instead of staying around to protect me, ensuring my safety until my vision had returned to normal, Peter, unaware of my handicap, had immediately taken off and had left me utterly defenseless._

_When I saw some fuzzy shapes approaching me, I had reached for my side-arm gun, but before I could press down on the trigger, I felt a jolt go through my body, and I fell into unconsciousness._

_When I had come to, I was in an interview room. According to Lieutenant Crowley, I had been bought to him for interrogation, as none of the Telepaths had been able to read me. They wanted to find out my name and my role in The Resistance. Stubbornly, I'd refused to tell them anything at all - even when Crowley had repeatedly tasered me on the head and had thrown me into solitary confinement. _

_A day or two after I'd gone into the hole, strands of my hair had started to fall out as I carded my fingers through them in an attempt to comb out the snarls. At first, I wasn't too concerned, but when I'd finally gone back into the general population, a prisoner by the name of Diego had asked me about the bald spot. As I was unable to get to a mirror, Diego had taken his thumb and finger and estimated for me that a patch of hair approximately one inch in diameter was missing from my hairline. I could only conclude that the repeated use of the taser had fried the hair roots. After a while, the patch of hair started to grow back, but the pigment was gone. I was, therefore, left with a white streak through my otherwise black hair. Because I still refused to tell the authorities my real name, my distinctive hair had earned me the nickname 'Skunk' from the prison guards; however, some of my fellow prisoners had recently started to call me 'The Doc' after a lunch room conversation where Colin had stupidly let it slip that I was a healer._

The metal hatch opened, and light streamed into the cell. I used my hands to cover my cock and balls from Crowley's sight, to preserve what small shred of dignity I still possessed. My photosensitive eyes blinked rapidly to adjust my vision, and I quickly took the opportunity to inspect the walls and ceiling. There, halfway up the wall in the opposite corner from the door was my prized black button. The button had become entangled in a spider's web, and I inwardly cheered at finally finding it. I took note of its position by counting the rows of bricks from the bottom row to enable me to retrieve it once Crowley was gone.

A metal waste bucket was first passed through the hatch, and I was permitted to step forward to grab its handle. I bent down to place the bucket by my feet and then straightened to take the meal tray. On the gray, plastic meal tray was the dreaded tapioca pudding, a plastic spoon, a paper cup of water and four scented wet wipes. Taking the tray, I moved to sit on my mat. Once I was seated, the hatch was closed. The sliver of light around the door from the outside was enough that I could see the tray, and I sat and stared at it as I twirled the plastic spoon between my fingers. I wanted to gag at the mere thought of spooning the slippery gray-white sludge into my mouth, and I simply couldn't force my hand to dip the utensil into the bowl. I silently composed a haiku in honor of the disgusting, cold, lumpy goop that was before me.

_Frogspawn for breakfast._

_So fucking sick of this shit._

_Tapioca. Yuck!_

In the end, I gave up, and I moved to the corner to count the rows of bricks until I found the spider web and my black button. I briefly contemplated eating the other occupant of the web, a large spider, thinking that it would be preferable to the tapioca, but instead, I allowed it to live.

I took a piss in the bucket, and I was just thankful that I didn't have to take a shit. I figured I could hold off for another day or two until I got out of solitary. There's nothing worse than taking a dump in a bucket, in a confined space, regardless of the effectiveness of the small vent in the ceiling.

I decided to do some exercise before washing myself. After performing one hundred push-up's, sit up's and squats, I'd warmed up and had broken out into a slight sweat. Grabbing the scented wet wipes from the tray, I had intended to start my wash, but instead, as I once again stared at the bowl of tapioca, I was struck with an idea.

Masturbation in prison is hard - no pun intended. Out in the general population, one can only hope that when the need arises, there is an understanding cell mate who is tactful enough to face the wall and stick his head underneath his own pillow to respect the privacy of the other as they performed the five knuckle shuffle beneath the blanket.

However, in the hole, if a prisoner is caught masturbating, the guards will punish them severely. As an eighteen year old, during my first stint in the hole, I'd found that out the hard way - again, no pun intended. Naive of that particular unwritten rule, I'd left the evidence of my crime in the waste bucket. Not long after the bucket had been taken from my cell, two guards had come in with their nightsticks, and they had beaten me until I was black and blue.

Stretching my body out on my mat, I gripped my cock firmly in my palm. Slowly, I slid my hand down my length, twisting slightly as I neared the base. I swear my cock almost wept in relief at my own touch; it had been such a long time.

In my mind, I conjured the vision of a girl to help me to speed things along - a girl with smooth skin, soft lips and talented hands. Long, dark hair, thick eyelashes and knowing eyes made my fantasy girl complete enough for my purpose. My hand stroked a bit harder, and my thumb rubbed circles around the slick head, the leaking pre-cum acting as a lubricant. I imagined that the hand holding the shaft of my cock was not my own, but hers.

Involuntarily, I bucked my hips and inhaled a deep, staggered breath when my girl cupped, stroked and squeezed my balls in her palm while using her other hand to grip my shaft tightly. She expertly and rhythmically moved it up and down as she hovered above me, her long hair tickling the skin of my thighs.

"_You feel so fucking good_," I whispered to her.

The nameless girl looked at me through her thick, dark eyelashes, only to smile and give me a wink before licking her lips and taking my cock into her mouth. I rolled onto my side and stroked harder and faster, and the fantasy girl had scarcely gotten her lips halfway down the length of my cock when I came. I barely managed to suppress an outward cry, and I inwardly buckled due to the intense force of my orgasm. I firmly squeezed myself in my palm as I directed my cock to spurt straight into the bowl of tapioca that I had purposely positioned beside me.

With no time to laze about in my post-orgasmic daze, I quickly sat up and used the plastic spoon to stir the evidence into the tapioca. I prayed that the disgusting breakfast goop would disguise my transgression adequately so that no-one would ever know. Placing the bowl back onto the tray, I then picked up my cup of water and greedily drank. Using two of the four scented wet wipes, I proceeded to wash my upper body and legs. Before my wash was completed, I had taken another small piss into the bucket, and then used one of the two remaining wipes to clean my cock, balls and ass. Finally, the last wipe was used to wash my face and hands.

Just as I had finished, and was discarding the used wipes into the bucket, I heard the sound of Lieutenant Crowley approaching. Standing against the side wall, I waited until he commanded that I pass the bucket to him through the hatch. He then demanded that I give him the food tray, and I tried to temper my anxiety as I saw him stare down at my uneaten breakfast. Silently, I offered up a prayer that Crowley wouldn't notice anything unusual.

He looked at me condescendingly. "What's the matter, Skunk? Prison food not good enough for the likes of you?"

"I guess I'm just not hungry for tapioca, Sir," I answered as respectfully as I could manage, while secretly fantasizing about picking up the defiled bowl of food and smashing it upside down on top of his head. "It's a bit salty today."

"You're such an ungrateful shit, Skunk," he sneered as he moved the tray onto the officer's desk, "you don't know what you are missing."

I watched as Crowley picked up the loaded plastic spoon from within the bowl of tapioca and placed it in his mouth. My heart leapt into my throat, as he seemed to contemplate the taste of it on his palate.

Crowley shook his head in disbelief. "Your taste buds must be in your boots, Skunk. There's nothing wrong with it." Crowley then proceeded to eat from the bowl as he sat at the desk and intermittently wrote information into a book.

Once he had finished eating the entire bowl, Crowley stood and moved toward my cell door. Before closing the hatch, he said, "Today is your last day in the hole, so be a good Skunk and eat all of your meals for the rest of the day. Starting tomorrow morning, we have plans for you, and you're gonna need all of your strength."

"Sir, you've got a little… um… there on the side of your mouth." I indicated by tapping a finger to the side of my own mouth.

Crowley ran the back of his shirt sleeve over his mouth, and still he completely managed to miss the left-behind smudge of tapioca pudding? Or was it cum? I steeled myself to keep my expression indifferent as the hatch door was abruptly slapped closed with a loud bang that echoed throughout the cell. There were footsteps, and the outer light was turned off, once again plunging my cell into absolute darkness. I waited for about a minute after I heard the sound of the key in the lock before allowing my laughter to burst out.

For exactly how long I laughed; I couldn't say, but just when I thought I'd managed to get my laughter under control; I would again recall the look on Crowley's face as he ate the tapioca with the extra 'special ingredient'. They say 'revenge is sweet' but when it comes to Lieutenant Crowley, I will instead think of revenge as being salty.

Once my sides were aching from the exertion of laughing so hard for so long, I moved my sleeping mat so that it rested upright against the back wall of the cell. I retrieved my metal button and held it firmly between my thumb and index finger. Moving into the approximate center of the cell, I spun around ten times on the spot. On the third spin, I flicked the button into the air with my thumb. Listening carefully as I continued to spin, I heard the sound of the button as it careened off the walls of the cell and rolled around on the concrete floor. When the button came to a stop, I got down on my hands and knees and searched in the direction of where I thought the button had landed.

I counted off in my head. "One Mississippi - two Mississippi - three Mississippi - four Mississ- Ah ha! Found you!"

Standing up, I repeated the game, spinning and flicking the metal button into the air over and over to while away the hours until Crowley reappeared with lunch and the next waste bucket.

At lunch time, when Crowley's ugly mug came into view through the hatch, along with the revolting odor of over-boiled cabbage, another Haiku came to mind, and I stared down my enemy.

_Crowley. Suck my dick!_

_You moronic piece of shit._

_I'll have my revenge._

_There are many things you will never know about me, Crowley, but mark my words you will never forget me._

I was once known as Edward Masen, the son of Elizabeth Masen and Doctor Edward Masen senior - both deceased. They were among the founding members of The Resistance, and they were murdered by the Volturi when I was just a young boy.

I'm the adopted brother of Doctor Carlisle Cullen - a Diagnostic and senior Resistance member. Like me, Carlisle's parents were also murdered by the Volturi.

Carlisle and I are the adopted sons of Mary-Alice Cullen - a powerful Oracle and the current leader of The Resistance.

My full name is Doctor Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, and I'm a one-of-a-kind, gifted healer. I'm a senior member of The Resistance, and currently my mission is to locate Benjamin Hapi, who is one of two remaining Elementals. He is hidden somewhere within the Volterra Prison Complex and is working for the Volturi against his will.

The Volturi water deacidification program, which is sub-contracted to the prison, is just a front. In reality, it's Benjamin, who cleanses the water of sulphur dioxide and nitric oxide. It is believed that the Volturi are using threats against the life of Benjamin's wife, Tia, to ensure his cooperation.

Unbeknown to Benjamin, Tia is safely living in one of The Resistance strongholds. Jacob Black successfully broke Tia out of the female prison facility some months back. Like Benjamin, Tia is an Elemental and is also quite elderly. I need to locate Benjamin, so Jacob can figure a way to get him out of prison. It is feared that Tia will die soon without her soul mate. Although I am a healer, I can only heal physical ailments - I can't mend a broken heart. Without an Elemental to keep us supplied with clean water, The Resistance, for all intents and purposes, will be completely fucked.

_The Volturi will never break me, Crowley, and I haven't even begun to wreak my vengeance, but I'll be sure to start with you._

* * *

**A/N - Song inspirations - Revenge by the Eurythmics.**

**Sorry about the longer than expected delay for this update. Life in the last month has given me the middle finger and turned my world upside down. This means I have less time to write, and the problem may only get worse as I might be forced back into full-time employment for a while. Mr. Bliss (who is self-employed) may be off work for five months following surgery, so someone has to pay the bills. I have no idea when the next update will be, but I know you all have the patience of saints.**

**Thanks to all who have recommended this story and reviewed. Your kind words inspire me to keep going with this story. **

**Don't get too concerned over Edward's appearance at the moment. There's more story to come.  
**

**B-o-B xxx**

**Review in haiku?**

**Just kidding, really.**

**l**

**l**

**V**


	12. Getaway

**A/N - I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

_There are many things you will never know about me, Crowley,_

_but mark my words you will never forget me._

-oo0oo-

**Getaway**

_Friday April 13th 2412_

I hadn't had a single fucking wink of sleep when the klaxons finally sounded. They signaled the beginning of another day - my last day of solitary confinement.

Feeling too nervous and keyed up, I'd been unable to sleep, wondering what the new day would bring. Colin, in particular, had been at the forefront of my worries, and I just hoped and prayed that nothing had happened to Jake's young cousin during the three weeks I'd been in the hole. If Freaky Fred had managed to hurt him in any way, as far as I'm concerned, he's a dead man.

After pacing the floor of my cell for thirty minutes, I heard the sound of the outer door as it opened. I watched and waited for the sliver of light to appear around the edges of the door, and I wasn't disappointed. Briefly, I glanced around the four claustrophobic walls, knowing that I would soon be bidding them farewell, for what I hoped would be the last time - ever. There had been moments when I had wondered if they would become my tomb.

"Stand against the side wall, Skunk," said the all too familiar voice of Lieutenant Crowley. I stood and waited as the hatch opened and stepped forward when permitted. I grabbed the waste bucket and plastic meal tray as the Lieutenant passed them to me.

Blocking my nose, I forced the vile breakfast down my throat, barely allowing it to settle on my tongue before swallowing it down. Noting the wet wipes on the tray, I was disappointed to realize I would have to wait yet another day before I could thoroughly wash myself in a cleansing chamber, or even shave the scraggly beard that had grown. I, therefore, quickly performed my morning ablutions.

At the last minute, I used the waste bucket. Knowing I wouldn't be heading to the cleansing chambers meant I was also unlikely to have the opportunity to go to the stalls to relieve myself. Having already held off for four days - what went in, finally came out, and I just prayed I wouldn't have to wait long to be rid of the bucket. Yesterday's over-boiled cabbage had not settled comfortably in my gut.

The hatch opened, and light flooded into the cell. Instead of seeing the familiar, ugly face of Lieutenant Crowley, I noted the top of a mostly balding head that was sparsely covered with wisps of gray hair and brown liver spots.

"Bucket," a voice intoned impassively, and I passed the waste bucket through the hatch. "Oh, fucking hell, that's so gross," the guard complained; it was a comment that seemed quite uncharacteristic of any prison guard I'd ever met before. Normally, the guards are stoic in their behaviors, lest they show any signs of weakness.

"Tray," the voice gasped, and I picked up the tray and slid it through the hatch.

There was a moment of silence, and with curiosity, I moved closer to the hatch. I watched with interest as I saw the hunched back of the prison guard as he carried both the bucket and tray through the outer door. I found it somewhat odd that the guard had negligently left the hatch open and walked away. I had to wonder if the guard was new to Volterra Prison.

I heard the retreating sounds of his phlegm-ridden cough and dry retching coming from the corridor, followed a minute or so later by cursing that progressively got louder as he made his return. As soon as I caught a glimpse of the guard in the doorway, I quickly moved away from the hatch and took up my position against the wall.

Suddenly, a set of clothes containing a pair of black underpants, black boots, and bright-orange overalls were forcefully hurled through the hatch. One boot almost hit me in the face, and I scowled in irritation. I suspected the boots were purposely thrown at my head as payback for the foul mess I'd left in the bucket. Like I had any choice but to eat the toxic excuse for food that was served up to me.

"Put them on," the gruff voice wheezed between hacking coughs.

I hurriedly dressed in the underwear and overalls, grateful to have the opportunity to wear clothing once again. Instantly, I felt less vulnerable. I pulled on the boots and only wished I had a pair of socks to make them feel more comfortable. I grabbed my metal button from the corner where I had left it, and I shoved it into my pocket.

The hatch closed, and I heard the sound of the moving tumblers as they released the lock of the door. Finally, for the first time in three weeks, the cell door opened. Before me stood a guard who was barely five feet tall. The man appeared to be in his sixties, and I noted the rows of inverted V's embroidered in blue with black edging on both upper sleeves of his shirt. The three V's indicated he was a Sergeant.

"You look and smell like shit," the guard stated, as I sized him up. He had a look of mirth in his eyes that seemed somewhat familiar.

I looked at the embroidered name tag on the upper-right-hand side of his shirt and saw the name "Wolfe" written there in black stitching. I grinned as soon as I saw the name tag, because all at once the guard's demeanor made a whole lot of sense.

_Jake_.

Notoriously, Jacob Black had a weak stomach, so having to empty the bucket must have really churned his guts. Jake always claimed to have a keen sense of smell, and he seemed to be particularly oversensitive to some odors. He was hopeless around blood, and if anyone vomited near him, you could guarantee that Jake would run a mile away, or else he'd be vomiting, too.

My grin at seeing my best friend quickly turned into a scowl of confusion and worry. I had to wonder why he was here.

_Is he here to pass on a message?_

_Am I about to be extracted?_

_Did someone die?_

Before I could voice my questions, Jake, sensing my unease, just shook his head and whispered, "I'll explain, but for now, just do everything you are told."

I heard the sound of jangling keys as someone walked along the corridor, and I froze as Lieutenant Crowley came through the doorway.

I minutely nodded my agreement to Jake and watched as he reached for a GPS ankle cuff that sat atop the officer's desk.

"Put your left foot on the chair, prisoner," Jake instructed.

I did as I was told, and I watched as Jake expertly played the role of an elderly guard. He pretended to struggle with his creaky bones as he knelt down to fasten the bulky black device around my ankle. Once the GPS device was in place, Crowley applied a pair of hinged cuffs to my wrists to secure my hands behind my back. I attempted to keep my expression neutral, belying the fact that handcuffs were one of the few things that actually bothered me.

Even more than being blind or naked, having my hands cuffed makes me feel vulnerable. When handcuffed, I'm particularly nervous around guards like Crowley. In order to subject me to an assault with a taser or his fists during his interrogations, Crowley always makes certain to cuff me first. However, I'm somewhat mollified by the fact I have a GPS cuff on my ankle, because it means I am about to leave the Volterra Prison Complex. I have no idea of where we are going, but with Jake accompanying us incognito, I am confident we will not be returning.

I should be elated. It seems the time has come to extract me from Volterra; however, I'm confused and frustrated because I have failed in my mission. I've yet to see any evidence of Benjamin Hapi within the complex, so either they have moved him, or else he's dead.

-oo0oo-

I was ushered along with a dozen or so other prisoners to board a fleet of vehicles that included bulldozers, snow plows, and dump trucks. Making my way along one of the ramps, I was about to walk onto the back of one of the dump trucks when Crowley pulled me off balance by grabbing onto the waistband of my overalls, which sent my body crashing to the ground. Unable to brace myself in any way, I landed awkwardly on my side. A sharp pain stabbed at my right shoulder, and I was winded, as my breath was forced out of my lungs in a sudden whoosh of air.

"Oops. Mind your step, Skunk. Anyway, we have other plans for you. Come this way."

Crowley viciously kicked me on the kneecap and then hoisted me off the ground by grasping the back of my overalls at the collar. Infuriated, I quickly tried to regain my footing to avert another 'accident'.

Jake watched on, and from the tightening in his jaw, I knew it killed him to see Crowley treating me cruelly. We've been best friends, since we were both five years of age. We've both been through a lot and have relied upon each other to help us get through the tough times. Jake was there for me after my parents had been betrayed and brutally murdered; I had been there for Jake whenever his father went missing and was feared dead.

_Twenty- three years ago, Jake's father, Billy Black was one of the three oracles who had simultaneously received a prophecy. Billy was twenty-nine years old at the time, and he had been working as an advisory to the Volturi in their effort to unearth sources of lime for the water deacidification process. The prophecy and the truth had come to him in the form of a dream. He had met with Aro Volturi to discuss the prophecy, and from that point on, he was a changed man._

_After hearing the prophecy, Aro had ordered for the memory of the dream to be erased from Billy's mind. Marcus Reed, Aro's right-hand man, was an Eraser. In his attempt to impress his powerful brother-in-law, Marcus had not only erased the dream from Billy's memory, but his entire life, as well._

_Mary-Alice Cullen was a nine-year-old child at the time she had received the vision. She had gone into a trance that had reportedly lasted for an hour. Unaware of the significance of the prophecy, she had told no one, a fact that had probably saved her life._

_Didyme Volturi-Reed was a member of the Volturi family, and she was the next person to impart the prophecy. Unaware of what had already occurred the previous day, she had told her husband Marcus the prophecy. On hearing the prophecy retold word for word, Marcus was horrified and had sworn Didyme to secrecy._

_Unfortunately, for Marcus, Didyme's brother, Aro, was powerfully gifted with a telepathic ability, and he immediately saw through their deception. Determined that no one should hear of the prophecy, Aro ordered for the immediate arrest of Marcus and Didyme. Sadly, Didyme died during her arrest._

_Marcus, using his talent as an Eraser had escaped from captivity, but fearing Aro's retribution against his family, he persuaded his son Alistair, and the rest of his relatives to leave the capital. The family moved around quite often and changed their surname from Reed to Hale._

_Unhappy with many of the events that had occurred within the council, several families began to break off their allegiance to the Volturi, choosing instead to follow Marcus. To name but a few, these families included the Cullens, the Littleseas, the Masens, the Whitlocks, and the Brandons, and it was from these families that The Resistance was born._

_Marcus, racked with guilt over his role in the erasure of Billy Black's mind, vowed to spend the rest of his life caring for Billy and his family. Unfortunately, Billy was insane, and he had a tendency to wander off into the wilderness. He'd also utter random passages from the bible in response to any questions. In some ways, his answers made a lot of sense; in others, it seemed like complete gibberish._

_The last time Billy wandered off was twelve years ago. Jake was thirteen years old, and Billy had been missing for several months; it was feared he was dead._

_After speaking to some people in Tanta, Marcus eventually discovered that Billy had reportedly frightened a young child and had caused her to fall and seriously injure herself. Some of the locals had formed a vigilante group, and they had savagely beaten him in retaliation for his actions._

_Marcus Hale and Charles Brandon eventually found him in a junk yard. Billy was bleeding and near death, and when they asked him about what had happened, he just quoted from the bible saying, "It is finished." He then closed his eyes and died._

Jake moved forward with the intention of helping me to stand, but with a slight scowl in his direction, I tried to indicate that he should not break out of character. He gave me a small nod in response and backed off.

Crowley spun me around and walked us over to a large truck that had a telescoping articulated platform mounted on the back. Jake walked around to the driver-side seat and got in behind the wheel. Crowley moved me to the passenger-side door and told me to, "Get in."

With my hands restrained behind my back, it was almost impossible to climb into the cab. Additionally, Crowley decided that using his nightstick on the backs of my knees was the best motivation to get me up into the seat, even though my knees collapsed each time he struck me. Thankfully, Jake grabbed a hold of the front of my overalls and helped to hoist me in the cab without Crowley realizing what he had done. Jake was one strong motherfucker, and I just knew that Crowley was in for the beating of his life once Jake got his hands on him.

As soon as Crowley was seated next to me in the truck, Jake started the engine, and we fell in line with the rest of the convoy of prison work vehicles. The truck moved slowly through the various prison gates, stopping at each one for a few minutes at a time, as each vehicle was thoroughly inspected to ensure there were no escapees hiding in the undercarriage or equipment storage spaces.

After an hour of driving, some of the vehicles ahead of us moved out of the convoy and headed down a freshly plowed access road. Our vehicle continued heading straight for another thirty minutes, until we drove past a sign that said:

**Global Energy Wind Farm**

**A wholly owned subsidiary of**

**The Volturi Conglomerate LLC.**

In the distance, the massive white pylons of the majestic wind turbines were visible as they towered over two-hundred feet into the sky. The G.E. wind farm was situated across thirty square miles of land, and it contained over three-hundred turbines. This particular wind farm was capable of producing 845 megawatts - enough electricity to power 235,000 homes. Jake turned the truck through the gates of the wind farm, and I angled myself to look at him with a questioning glance.

Jake explained, "Some of the locals that utilize the nearby roads are complaining about ice throw. The turbines are meant to stop if they get a buildup of ice or snow on the rotors, but as you can see, some of them are still turning. Just yesterday, a man was injured when a slab of ice as big as a bed sheet came crashing down through the roof of his truck as he drove past the farm. It's lucky he wasn't killed."

Jake pulled up in front of the central substation, and Crowley got out of the truck and entered the building. Moments later, he climbed back into the truck and instructed Jake to drive toward a group of turbines that were numbered from eighty through to ninety. I could already see that their rotors were in the process of slowing down. By the time we stopped in front of the pylons, the rotors had slowed and were spinning their final revolutions before coming to a complete stop. Crowley was the first to leave the truck.

"Just go along with things for a while until I figure out the right time to take him down. I'm sure you'll want to do the honors," Jake said, before Crowley reappeared next to the passenger-side door.

I gave Jake a quick smirk and slid across the seat of the cab. I briefly sat with my legs dangling out of the cab then jumped down to land on the soft snow. Already, I could feel the cold starting to seep into my boots and my sock-less feet began to numb.

"Turn around, Skunk."

I turned, and Crowley produced the key to unlock the cuffs. Once I was released, the circulation returned with a vengeance, and my arms and hands began to ache and throb. Jake remained in the cab, and I watched as the articulated arm of the hydraulic platform on the back of the truck unfolded, turned and then lowered to the ground. Jake then stepped out of the truck and from one of the storage compartments, he pulled out some gloves, a balaclava, snow goggles, and a pry bar.

"Suit up then step onto the platform, prisoner," Jake said, as he threw the winter wear at me.

I hastily donned the winter wear and stepped onto the platform. Jake secured the chain across the bucket and then handed me the pry bar. He fastened a safety harness around my waist and secured it to the bucket.

"In most cases, you'll just need to tap on the rotor a bit, and the ice and snow will fall off. If it's really stuck, use the lever of the pry bar and try to hook it off. If it's too difficult, we'll move onto the next blade and come back to it later. The sun is going to help loosen off some of the ice and snow as the morning goes on anyway, so be careful. Always try to stay slightly above the rotor and to one side of the snow and ice, so you don't get hit."

Jake then applied a headset over the top of the balaclava. "This two-way communicator allows you to speak with me, so I can get you into the correct position. Just stick to simple commands such as left, right, up, down, stop and go, got it?" I nodded my understanding and watched as Jake and Crowley got back into the truck.

Suddenly, the platform began to rise into the air, and I was lifted into position next to the first rotor blade. As Jake had explained, most of the rotors only required a few well-placed hits with the pry bar before the ice, and snow fell crashing to the base of the pylon. However, after the fourth turbine, the wind had started to pick up velocity, and it caused the platform to sway disconcertingly. As I worked on the fifth turbine, Jake's voice came cracking through the earpiece of the communicator.

"Slow down and pretend you're having a bit of trouble with this rotor. Lieutenant Dipshit is taking a piss and a smoke break, so I'll be quick to explain. It seems that last week the Volturi moved Benjamin out of Volterra Prison, and he's now being held in a location within Alexandria General Hospital. Carlisle thinks they are running some experiments on him or something. Yesterday, he attempted to gain access, but for some reason, his medical visitation rights were suddenly revoked. Carlisle thinks that someone has become suspicious of his recent behavior with the G.C's office, so it looks like Carlisle's going to head out, and you're going to have to take his place as the new Doc in town. Once we've incapacitated the Dipshit, I'll call Jasper, so he can erase us both from his mind. Then we'll head off, and I'll take you to see Yorkie, so we can... uh- hang on, I gotta take a call."

I continued my task of pretending to struggle with a stubborn patch of ice. Inwardly, I was seething with fury at Carlisle. I had told him months ago to leave the FORKS G.C. situation alone, but he was steadfastly insistent that he and Angela had been lied to and that the G.C. was up to something shady. If Carlisle had done anything to draw suspicion to himself, I just hoped he'd get out in time before he came across any of the Volturi telepaths; otherwise, he would expose the identity of every Resistance member, along with the locations of our safe houses and bases. Jake's voice spoke to me through the headset once again.

"Finish this rotor and then tell me that you need to take a piss. Once you are on the ground, and have been unhooked from the platform, I'll grab Lieutenant Dipshit from behind, and you hit him over the head with the pry bar, got it?"

"Got it."

Unfortunately, as soon as the platform came to a stop, Crowley reached for the pry bar and pulled it out of my grasp before unfastening the safety harness from the bucket. Fortunately, he passed the pry bar to Jake, and I watched in amusement as Jake morphed from his hunched-over, old man disguise into his naturally muscular, six-foot-seven state.

"What are you smirking at, Skunk?" Crowley sneered, and then he smacked me across the head.

I smiled in reply. "Say hello to my little friend…"

-oo0oo-

To keep warm, we sat in the cab of the truck as we waited for Jasper to arrive. Jake had just explained that there would be a slight change in plans. The call he had taken earlier was from Carlisle, and apparently, he was adamant that I meet with him before heading off to see Yorkie.

"Did Carlisle say what was so important that it couldn't wait? I asked."

"I don't know, dude. He just kept saying, "I've found her. I've found her," and that he needed to see you as soon as possible. He wouldn't tell me anything else."

"I swear if this is about that fucking prophecy again, I'm gonna punch his lights out. Doesn't he realize how risky it's gonna be for us to walk into FORKS? It's all right for you; I mean you can just pretend to be someone else, but I'm a little more recognizable." I shook my head in incredulity.

Crowley started to regain consciousness again, and he began to scream against the makeshift gag Jake had made for him by shoving a glove into his mouth and securing it in place with the elasticized straps of the goggles. He was naked, apart from a pair of gray underpants. His hands were cuffed through the steering wheel with the hinged cuffs, and his left foot was secured to the seat position adjustment handle with the GPS cuff.

Frantically, Crowley began to bash his forehead against the horn in an attempt to get attention from any passersby, although it was highly unlikely, particularly as we were out in the middle of a desolate wind farm. Bored from the screaming and honking, I placed the taser against Crowley's forehead and zapped him a few times until he passed out again.

"You know… that never gets old." I laughed.

"I wonder if his hair will go white, too," Jake mused out aloud.

"Yeah, that would be too funny. At least it would be _something_ to remember me for. Paybacks a bitch - isn't that right, Lieutenant Dipshit?" I then zapped Crowley in the nuts a few times, just for good measure.

Just as Jake was telling me about Colin's escape from Volterra, a rumbling in the distance, alerted us to the fact that Jasper had finally arrived. He pulled up next to our truck in a small, nondescript four-seater snowcat, and Jake and I climbed out of the truck to greet him.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, Cullen." Jasper embraced me in a bear hug and lifted me off the ground in his exuberance. He was only an inch taller than I was, but obviously, I'd lost quite a few pounds and some muscle mass in the two months I'd been behind enemy lines.

"You too, Hale, but seriously, Jake and I can't hang around and trade war stories with you right now. Carlisle's acting all weird and shit, and he insists that we go to see him straight away, so we just need you to do your thing here on the Lieutenant's brain, and we'll head off to FORKS.

-oo0oo-

After rendering Crowley unconscious again, once Jasper had finished scrambling his memories, we parked the Volterra truck behind a snowdrift to hide it from the view of any passing vehicles. Jasper drove toward FORKS and promised to wait for us while we met with Carlisle. About a mile outside of FORKS, Jake changed into the uniform of Lieutenant Crowley and morphed his appearance. He then loosely applied a pair of standard handcuffs to my wrists, allowing me to keep my arms in front of my body. The cuffs were loose enough, that if necessary, I could easily slip my hands out. If anyone confronted us, the cover story was that I had a suspected broken arm, and I was seeing Doctor Cullen for a diagnosis.

We were running late, so Jasper dropped us off at the main entrance before heading off to wait for us in the parking bay. As we approach the medical clinic, I found it odd that the front door was wide open, but the closed sign was hanging in the window. We cautiously stepped into the empty reception area.

"Carlisle?"

There was no answer. I slipped my hands out of the cuffs and headed for his office. I knocked on the door expecting to hear him call me in, but all I heard was a choking sound. Quickly, I opened the door, and I was confronted with a nightmare. Carlisle was sprawled out on the floor, and he was lying in a large pool of blood. His normally immaculate office was in complete disarray.

"Oh, Jesus, no!" I rushed forward and scooped Carlisle up into my arms then hurled him onto an examination bed. Behind me, I could hear Jake as he entered the office and took in the scene. He gagged involuntarily, and I cursed him for his weakness. In an attempt to spare my friend from the gory scene, I closed the curtain around the bed and set about trying to heal my brother.

His throat had been sliced from ear to ear, and a blood-curdling sucking noise could be heard escaping from the wound. Whoever had done this meant serious business. Not only was his carotid artery severed, his trachea had been slashed too.

"Fucking hell, Carlisle. What have you done? Who did this to you?" With my hands surrounding my brother's neck, I concentrated on repairing the severed arteries and veins to halt the bleeding. Once the bleeding was under control, I then set about repairing his trachea. Like bone, healing cartilage was a process that took much longer and more energy. I could only imagine that to any onlooker, the light that radiated from my body, would be like looking into the sun.

"Hurry up! If anyone sees us here, we're going to end up beheaded," Jake hissed.

"Shut up, and just give me ten more minutes."

"We don't have that long. Let's just take him with us."

"We can't… not like this-"

Carlisle interrupted our argument by taking in a gasp followed by a wet sounding cough.

"Shit!" Jake yelled, and then there was a commotion. I concentrated on my brother, but I was vaguely aware of Jake yelling and a woman screaming.

"Tori…," Carlisle rasped.

"What?"

"Tori," he repeated.

"Your girl Victoria did this to you?"

"Yessssss," he replied, before going into a coughing spasm.

I was beyond livid. "This is your entire fault, Carlisle! You and your goddamn vendetta against the G.C! Fucking hell… do you now realize what you've done! You vouched for Tori, and thanks to you, the whole of The Resistance is under threat of exposure! How much does she know?"

"Alice…," he spluttered.

"What about Mary-Alice? Is she in danger?"

"Not Mary-Alice," he gasped. "Alice… truth. Go ask Alice. Bell-"

The rest of Carlisle's rasped words were drowned out as Jake yelled out, "There's no time left, brother. We've got to go, now! This bitch called the guards, and now they're on their way." I then heard a scuffle followed by a deep grunt of pain.

I could feel my strength weakening, and I knew I was running out of time. If the guards were on their way, I couldn't hope to heal Carlisle in time. He'd lost too much blood. My brother was going to die without my help. "Nooooooooooo… not like this."

I vaguely considered concentrating my efforts on forcing Carlisle's bone marrow to produce more red blood cells, but I knew it was futile. His level of circulating plasma was too low, and unless I could increase his intravascular fluid volume, he would quickly develop a case of Polycythemia vera. His heart would then have to work overtime to pump thick, viscous blood, not only putting him at risk of cardiac arrest, but also of a stroke or pulmonary embolism.

There was more scuffling and screaming coming from behind me, and I heard the sound of heavy furniture being moved. Carlisle was attempting to speak, but his voice was too weak to be heard over the cacophony. Suddenly, I was wrenched away from Carlisle and was pulled backwards through the curtain. I heard a woman sobbing and screaming Carlisle's name, and I was wheeled around by Jake's hands to stand before him. He held onto my upper arms in a vice-like grip. Phosphene lights swirled in my vision. I couldn't see a fucking thing, and given the amount of energy I'd expended, my vision would be unlikely to return within the hour.

Mindful of the fact that we weren't alone, I hissed my displeasure at Jake. "What the fuck, man?"

"There's no time, we've got to go. The guards are on their way."

"She's probably bluffing or some shit. Let me finish. Just a few more minutes."

"No! We need to go."

"Well, call Jay and get him up here. Maybe he can help us get Carlisle out of here."

"There's no way. He won't survive the jump."

"What?"

"We'll have to go out the window. I've barricaded the door to buy us some time."

"In case you haven't noticed, I can't see. How in the hell am _I_ going to jump out of a window that's three stories off the ground without killing myself?"

"You'll just have to trust me."

Jake grunted and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. He led me towards the window, and I felt the bite of the wind as it blasted into the office. The exposed areas of my skin were rapidly chilled as he guided my hands to touch the windowsill.

"I go first. When I'm ready, I'll call for you to jump. Just listen for my voice and on the count of three - jump. I'll try to catch you or at least break your fall."

I almost snorted at the idea of crashing into Jake as 'breaking my fall'. The fucker was as solid as a brick wall. As I stood and waited for Jake to jump, I could hear Carlisle's gurgling breaths. Once again, a feeling of frustration and regret washed over me. I couldn't believe that all our years of hard work were about to come undone thanks to Carlisle's folly. I turned to face the direction of where I knew Carlisle was lying. The woman was with him, sobbing quietly. It was a cold comfort; at least, he wouldn't die alone. Whoever she was, she obviously cared for him. It was just unfortunate that she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She wasn't to blame.

"I blame you," were the last words I had said to my brother before I jumped out of the window toward Jake's voice.

Carlisle would know what I meant by that statement. He'd spent too much time and energy chasing after a dream instead of concentrating on the mission.

Ultimately, he may have doomed us all.

* * *

**A/N – Song inspiration - Getaway by The Music.**

**As I previously warned, updates may slow down as my husband has his surgery next week.**

**Many thanks to the ten faithful followers who religiously leave reviews for each chapter. You make my day.**

**B-o-B xxx  
**


	13. Plastic Man

******A/N - I don't own Twilight, I'm just borrowing SM's characters for the hell of it.**

* * *

_I couldn't believe that all our years of hard work were about to come undone thanks to Carlisle's folly._

-oo0oo-

**Plastic Man**

_Friday April 13__th__ 2412_

Jasper drove us away from FORKS as fast as the small snowcat would allow. I was so tired, and my whole body ached, but I couldn't allow myself to succumb to exhaustion or grief. There was too much to be done, and I barked out orders in a rapid fashion during the ten-minute journey to Yorkie's place.

"Contact both Lee and Connor; they're our men on the inside of the Alexandria PD. We'll need to find out what occurred in that office before Jake and I got there. At least one of them needs to end up on the crime scene investigation team. I only hope that Carlisle wasn't stupid enough to leave any evidence behind that links him to The Resistance, but if there is anything there, we need them to retrieve it or destroy it. Someone also needs to go through Carlisle's residence. Burn the place to the ground if you have to; make it look like a looting. Then I want this woman, Victoria Parry, found ASAP, and I want her brought to me for questioning. Get in contact with the leaders. I need to know if Carlisle took her to any of the safe houses."

"Will do," Jasper responded. "Pass me my phone, Jake. I'll put the word out right now."

"Jake… once it has been confirmed that Carlisle has been moved, I'll need you to recover his body for me. I want you to take Carlisle back home to Mary-Alice and our people for a proper burial. I know it's a lot to ask of you, but you're the only one who can do it."

"Hey! You don't even know that Carlisle is dead yet," Jake argued. "The guards or that girl might have gotten him some medical attention."

In my heart, I hoped and prayed that Carlisle had made it, but the chances were highly unlikely. He'd lost too much blood; that much was obvious, even to the untrained eye.

"I have to be realistic, Jake. Even if the guards hadn't disturbed us, without a massive transfusion, it was unlikely that even I could have prevented Carlisle from dying. He was too far gone, and I was becoming too weak."

The rest of the short trip to Yorkie's was spent relaying messages to our various bases and safe houses. Everyone was put on high alert until Victoria could be found. It was discovered that Victoria, or Tori, as she preferred to be called, had previously visited two of our safe houses, so I ordered their immediate evacuation. Until I knew Tori's reason for killing Carlisle, it was better to be safe than sorry. Once we arrived at Yorkie's, Jasper and Jake carefully guided me inside, as my vision had yet to return.

My next order of business was to call Mary-Alice to pass on the news.

Of course, she already knew.

"If you knew ahead of time he was going to be killed, why in the hell didn't you call Carlisle to prevent it?" I asked in frustration.

"There are some events that have to occur in order to secure the future."

"Ma!" I growled.

"It's true. Carlisle's death has set things in motion. The prophecy is coming."

"You and your fucking prophecy! How many more people have to die, huh?"

"Edward," she said in a low tone, warning me that she didn't appreciate the way I had spoken to her.

"It just seems to me that more and more people are dying, and all you and Marcus ever say is, "The prophecy is coming." You two have been saying this for how long now?"

"You sound so much like Elizabeth right now, Edward. She lost her faith, too."

For Mary-Alice to call me out on my behavior, and tell me that I was just like Elizabeth was like a slap to the face. My birth mother had been a selfish woman who'd only ever had her own interests at heart. While I was losing hope that I would live long enough to see the outcome, I still believed in the prophecy, and I believed in The Resistance; I was just anxious for it all to come to an end so that no one else I cared about would die.

I snarled, "Spare me the bullshit history lesson, Ma. I lived through it, remember…," and then I hung up on her before I said something we'd both regret.

_It was New Year's Day. I was twelve years old, and my parents and I had been living with The Resistance for ten years. For several months, posters and radio broadcasts had proclaimed the first day of January 2400 would be a day of amnesty. The Volturi council had decreed that anyone who'd joined with The Resistance, but wanted to return to live under Volturi society rules, could do so without fear of incarceration or interrogation._

_Most families within The Resistance rejected the idea without hesitation. They rightly believed that The Volturi didn't give second chances. In all, only four people took up the New Year's Day Amnesty offer - my parents, Elizabeth and Edward Masen, and Carlisle's parents, Liam and Maggie Cullen._

_Carlisle's grandmother was in the hospital dying from cancer, and it was Liam's wish to be able to spend time with his mother during her last days. He hoped that he could heal the rift that had estranged him from his mother when he'd uprooted his family to join with The Resistance. Liam and Maggie had decided to return to Volturi society, albeit temporarily. They chose to ignore the dire predictions of Mary-Alice, their nineteen-year-old niece; however, Carlisle, their fourteen-year-old son, did believe in Mary-Alice's prediction, and he had requested to stay behind in her care._

_My parents, or more specifically, my mother, had chosen to live outside the Volturi rules due to her desire to have another child. It had always been my mother's dream to have a daughter, and the one-child policy meant that by the time I turned the age of two, both of my parents were expected to have undergone mandatory sterilization. A month before my second birthday, my parents fled Volturi society to join with the fledgling Resistance._

_Although it had been my mother's idea to join The Resistance, she hated living on the run. For some reason, she'd had some romantic notion that living in the wilderness and moving from place to place was going to be easy; however, she always complained whenever we had to move. She whined when we were frequently forced to leave things behind or had to live rough, and she became resentful when we occasionally went hungry or thirsty._

_After ten miserable years, her desire for another child had also remained unfulfilled, so at the first prospect for a safe return to 'civilized society', my mother leaped at the opportunity to leave. My father, who was inherently a weak man when it came to my mother, acquiesced to her every whim, and he was willing to follow her anywhere. Mary-Alice had come forward and warned my parents that they too would be betrayed, but my mother would not be dissuaded._

_On Amnesty Day, I fought with my mother and refused to return to Volturi society. I didn't want to leave behind my friends and the only life I had ever known. My mother said that the prophecy was not worth dying for and told me that if I stayed in The Resistance, I would end up dead or in prison. Despite her pleas, I was adamant that if my parents forced me to go with them, I would simply run away._

_Therefore, like Carlisle, I too ended up in the care of Mary-Alice. A few hours after our parents had left, Marcus had a premonition, and we immediately broke up the campsite and moved to a new location. We traveled for three days, non-stop._

_A few days later, we got word that on their arrival in front of the council, our parents were promptly arrested and interrogated. Search parties had been immediately dispatched to our previous location, but all they managed to find was an abandoned temporary campsite. After learning of our disappearance, Aro Volturi was reportedly enraged and ordered that Maggie, Liam, Elizabeth, and Edward Sr. all be executed._

_Although Mary-Alice was not much older than both Carlisle and me, she took good care of us. A month after we had learned our parents had been killed, Carlisle burst into our tent to share some amusing news with us but in his exuberance, he had accidentally called Mary-Alice "Mom." On realizing his slip of the tongue, he became extremely quiet, but Mary-Alice took it all in her stride. She reached out to Carlisle and held him when he finally broke down and cried. She knew how much he missed having his mother around, and told Carlisle that she would be more than happy to be a mom to him, if that was what he needed._

_Carlisle didn't want to disrespect the memory of his mother and couldn't bring himself to call Mary-Alice "Mom," but by taking the first two initials of her hyphenated name, he shortened it and soon started referring to her as "Ma." And because I idolized Carlisle and was happy to have him as a big brother, I started to call her "Ma" too._

-oo0oo-

Once my vision had finally returned, I took advantage of my host's hospitality and cleaned myself up. It was a relief to be able to wash my hair, rid myself of the scratchy beard and wear normal clothes again. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, disturbed at how much I had changed in just a few short weeks. Just as I was about to leave the bathroom, Jake walked toward me carrying a pair of clippers. He had a gleeful look on his face.

"Get back in there," he ordered.

"Why?"

"It's time to make you into a new man," he said in an exaggerated effeminate voice while waving the clippers in front of my face.

"Yeah, I don't fucking think so."

"Marcus called. He says you are to take Carlisle's place, so you can get access to the hospital and access to Benjamin. You said it yourself; you're too recognizable now, and I'll bet that your face will be all over the news tonight. Yorkie will have to make it so your face won't even be recognizable to yourself."

I eyed him dubiously. I had come to Yorkie with the purpose of obtaining new documents and maybe getting the white patch of hair cut out of my scalp, but from what Jake implied, it was going to take a lot more to make me look unrecognizable.

Just then Yorkie and Jasper walked into the bathroom. Jasper was carrying a white plastic stool which he placed in front of the mirror. Turning to look at me, Yorkie ordered me to sit down and face him. He proceeded to look me over. At times, his face was mere inches from mine, as he stared at me over the top of his bifocal glasses and then prodded and pinched at my face for several minutes.

Pulling out a marker from his top pocket, he then brushed my hair back with his palm and proceeded to draw lines across the skin of my face; all the while looking like a mad professor - a modern-day Doctor Frankenstein. His forehead was furrowed in concentration as he mumbled incoherently to himself.

"Piebaldism?" he asked suddenly as he lifted the white forelock at my hairline and examined it. At this question, Jasper laughed, and I did too.

_The first night I'd met and worked with Jasper Hale, we had staked out the front gates of Volterra Prison to monitor traffic in and out of the complex. To pass the time, Jasper had regaled me with stories of his ancestry. On seeing my white forelock, he had initially wondered if we were distantly related. According to Jasper, he had been named after a Confederate Army Major from his mother's lineage._

_For many generations, the notorious Whitelock family was well-known for their propensity to join in a fight. For as long as there had been battles and wars, one of Jasper's ancestors had apparently been there, right in the thick of it. Not only were the Whitelock men known for their strategies in battle, they were well-known for the rare autosomal dominant disorder that had plagued them, giving them their distinctive white forelocks and hypo-pigmented patches of skin. It was a congenital condition they carried called Piebaldism._

_Jasper Whitelock was a sixteen-year-old tear-away from Galveston, Texas, who had dreams of joining the Confederate Army. Thanks to his white forelock and patchy forearms, the local recruiters immediately knew who Jasper Whitelock was, and they sent him away. They told him that he was too young to fight, and that he needed to go home and look after his recently widowed mother instead._

_Undeterred, young Jasper Whitelock stole a horse and rode for a day and a half. Using ashes in his hair, he had disguised his white forelock and then presented himself to the army recruiters in Houston. His doctored papers told them his name was Jasper Whitlock, and that he was twenty years of age. Due to his charismatic personality, he was quickly promoted through the ranks and went on to become the youngest Major in the Confederate Army._

_When he was twenty-one years of age, the Civil War had ended, and as Major Whitlock was traveling home to Galveston, he fell in love with a young Mexican girl by the name of Maria. They eventually married and moved to Mexico, where Maria gave birth to a son by the name of Peter and then two years later, produced twin daughters, Nettie and Lucy - none of whom passed along the congenital piebald condition to their descendants._

"No, it's not Piebaldism. Just electrical trauma," I explained. Yorkie nodded in understanding before launching into his spiel. He started picking up pieces of my long hair and pointed at parts of my scalp.

"First off, I'll do a scalp flap to remove the hypo-pigmented area, and then I'll need to give you more of a brow which will make you appear slightly more distinguished. I'll then use a combination of hydroquinone, UVC light and laser therapy on your scalp to lighten your hair and permanently change the color."

Yorkie then turned my body, so I was facing the mirror.

"To get rid of your baby face, I'm going to augment your chin and redefine your jaw line. I'll also change the shape of your nose; make it a little less than perfect, so it will give your face a little character. I'll even out your lips; your top lip is quite thin compared to your lower lip. I'll inject lipochrome into the iris of your eyes, which will change their blue color. Depending on how much I inject and how much is absorbed you'll end up having eyes that may be as dark as green or as light as amber. All this plastic surgery will take about a week to heal. The hard part comes after."

"What do you mean… the hard part?" I asked.

"Once I've changed your face, then I will need to change your retinas."

"My retinas? Why?"

"The capillaries in the back of the eyes are so complex that they are unique to each person. Even identical twins do not share a similar pattern of capillaries. All Volterra inmates have their retinas scanned as soon as they are incarcerated so that in the event of an escape, they will be easily identified should they try to blend into society. Many of the public buildings require the use of a retinal scanner in order to gain access. Just recently, the Alexandria General Hospital installed retinal scanners, and I understand that the FORKS facility will also install them in the very near future."

"So how do you change the patterns?" Jake asked.

"With these." Yorkie pulled out a small vial, and he proudly held it in front of his face.

"It's empty," Jake stated.

"No it's not. What you are looking at, my boy, is the culmination of five years of blood, sweat and tears. If I put the contents of this vial under a microscope, you would see medical nanorobots. These nanobots are programmed to reconfigure the retina by introducing Endostatin, a collagen 18 protein fragment, to block and destroy some of the capillaries in your eye. Once that process has been completed, Vascular Endothelial Growth Factor is then introduced, which will in turn stimulate angiogenesis or capillary growth. Old capillaries will be killed off, and new capillaries will be produced in the back of the eye, thereby changing the retinal pattern."

"So why is that the hard part? I asked.

"It's hard because, first, the whole process takes between three and four weeks; secondly, while this process is taking place, your eyes will need to be bandaged shut so you will be blind; and thirdly, it's extremely painful."

I looked at my two friends and sighed in resignation. "What choice do I have?"

"None whatsoever," Jake said sadly. He then plugged in the hair clippers and proceeded to shave most of my hair off, leaving me with a messy haircut that was about one to one and a half inches in length.

It looked stupid.

* * *

-oo0oo-

_Monday April 23rd 2412 (ten days later)  
_

"Will you just stop it! Fucking leave them alone, or I'm gonna tie you up, and then I'm gonna gag you," Jake yelled as he smacked my hands away from my bandages again.

"I can't help it! Everything itches, and my eyes are fucking killing me. Arrrrrgh!"

"Stop being such a pussy."

"Fuck off!"

"No. Someone has to watch over your pansy ass to stop you from undoing all of Yorkie's hard work."

"When is Jasper coming back?"

"I dunno. He muttered something about visiting a cousin or some shit and then took off."

"I need some more painkillers."

"Sorry… no can do. You're not due for another ninety minutes."

"Bullshit. You're fucking kidding me."

"I wish I was, but no…"

"Arrrrrgh!" I was curled up on one of the sofas in whatever safe house we were in, rocking back and forth in pain. "This can't be normal. There must me something wrong. It's too damn painful."

"For the hundredth time, Yorkie said it was going to hurt. The nanobots are just doing their thing."

"Well get me a sedative - just give me something to knock me out. Anything!"

"I'll fucking knock you out if you don't shut the fuck up and quit your whining," Jake mumbled.

Just then I heard the front door of the house open and close.

"Thank God you're back. Pretty boy here was driving me insane," Jake complained as I heard his footsteps stomp toward the kitchen.

"What's wrong with you?" Jasper asked, and I heard him sit down at the other end of the sofa.

"I'm blind. I'm bored. I'm itchy, and I'm in pain. To top it off that asshole is withholding my pain medication," I said accusingly.

"You're. Not. Due!" Jake yelled from the other room.

"Well give me something so I can sleep. I just need to sleep," I begged.

After a minute or so of silence, Jasper yelled, "Jake?"

"Yeah?" was Jake's muffled reply as I heard him walk back into the room. He was probably stuffing his face with food again.

"Go into the bedroom and pack up all of Edward's stuff. I'm gonna help Edward into the snowcat."

"What's going on? Where are we going?" I asked.

"Well, originally I was going to stay at my cousin's place by myself for a while, but if I leave you here with Jake, you just might end up killing each other."

"So what? You're going to take him with you?" Jake asked.

"Yeah. I think I will. I've got an idea."

"What do you have in mind?" I asked.

"The perfect solution."

Jasper then chuckled, and I didn't like the sound of it… not one little bit.

* * *

**A/N – Song inspiration - Plastic Man by Seether.**

**Thanks for the kind reviews. A big shout-out to Middlewife who pimped me out in her latest chapter of "Through a glass, darkly." A big thank you also for nomming Isle ESME 2412 for an Emerging Swan Award in the Best Supernatural/Fantasy category (Full Length Complete, WIP, and Oldie But a Goodie Author). Votes for this section of the awards close on the 5th of September. To go and support some lesser-known writers go to: **

**ht tp:/ /www . kwiksurveys . com/?s=NCOOKM_3892c153 (remove spaces)**

**B-o-B xxx**

**Your reviews make my ass tingle.**

**(I seriously mean it. My iPhone is set to vibrate when I get an email review alert)  
**

**l**

**l**

**V**


	14. Where Is My Mind?

**A/N - I don't own Twilight… but I'm betting that if I announced on here that I did, no one would actually sue me because I'm not making any money from this.**

* * *

_Jasper then chuckled, and I didn't like the sound of it… not one little bit._

-oo0oo-

**Where Is My Mind?**

_Monday April 23rd 2412_

I'm covered in a layer of sweat, and I feel weak and wrung out.

"Do you think you've finished yet?" a muffled voice calls from the other side of the door.

"Fuck off!" I reply feebly into the bucket that sits on my lap.

He chuckles evilly and leaves.

_Bastard_.

I'm going to wring his damn neck if he asks me one more time how much longer I'm going to sit here. I swear if they had used Colyte bowel preparation solution as a means of torture and interrogation while I was in prison, I probably would have sung like a fucking canary.

I had to drink somewhere between three and four liters of the nasty tasting concoction, and as a result, I think I may have lost my entire colon down the shitter. I've vomited twice. I smell like shit and vomit. I feel as though I'm dying, and it's all thanks to Jasper Hale.

Jake, as expected, made his excuses to leave after my second trip to the shitter.

After the fifth onslaught, I flushed and then didn't even attempt to raise my ass off the toilet seat. It was too much effort to bother with cleaning myself and pulling up my pants, only to have to stumble back, blindly, ten minutes later. I've been sitting here for so long; I've lost the feeling in my feet. I hiss due to the uncomfortable tingling sensation. Pins and needles.

At least I'm not thinking about the pain in my eyes.

-oo0oo-

"Ow!"

"Hold still."

"Ow!"

"I said hold still!"

"And I said, 'Ow!' Go and get Yorkie. You're a fucking sadist," I snapped as I sat up on the bed and gingerly rubbed at the suture line at the very top of my forehead. "Just pull out the damn stitches, not my hair!"

"Lie back down! I'm almost done, you big baby. I've only got…," Jasper counted under his breath, "six more stitches to take out."

"Seven," I corrected.

"Seven?"

I let out a heavy sigh, knowing that Jasper was going to ask questions.

"There is a running subcuticular suture that needs to come out from my hip."

"Huh? There's a what-a-what?"

"A running subcuticular suture. It's a single long suture that is mostly buried under my skin. You just need to snip the knot off one end and then pull it out from the other," I explained.

"Why is there a suture in your hip?"

"It's none of your busine- Owwwww!" I growled as Jasper roughly pulled out another suture from my hairline. "I swear you are getting some sort of sick satisfaction from this."

"Maybe…" Jasper chuckled. "One down; six to go."

I put my head back down on the pillow and gritted my teeth to brace myself for the pain. Jasper proceeded to remove the remaining sutures from my hairline.

"Okay… just one more to go. Show me your hip."

I rolled over onto my stomach and pulled the waistband of my pants down to expose the suture line.

"That's not your hip, Cullen. That's your ass."

"It's my hip, you moron. It's up high," I protested.

"No it's your ass, and I'm not touching it."

"Oh come on, Jasper. I'd do it for you."

"No, I'm not doing it!" Jasper said adamantly.

"Please, just do it and get it over and done with. Just pull it out and we'll never speak of you touching my ass again."

I heard the sound of a female giggle from nearby and suddenly, I was aware that Jasper and I were not alone. I then heard some heavy footsteps and a clattering sound. My mind identified it as a cart of some sort, and the wheels were slightly unbalanced.

"So, is this an intimate moment for you guys, because I can always come back later…"

"Shut up, Jake. Jasper is just taking out my suture for me."

"Nice ass," a female voice said smoothly and then giggled again.

"Hey! Quit staring at his ass," Jake said with mock irritation. "Scoot back to the living room and wait for me, woman." I heard the sound of a hand as it smacked, and the female gave a playful yelp.

"Awwww… Jakey is jealous. Hi, Jazzy… bye, Jazzy." The girl said in a sing-song voice and then giggled again as she retreated.

"Hey Jake," Jasper greeted cheerfully. "Thanks for getting the portable ultrasound for me."

"No problem. So, why is there a suture in your ass, Edward?" Jake moved closer, and I could tell he was hovering over me. "Hey! Did you get that birthmark cut out?"

"Ah-ha! So that's what it was. Care to explain why Cullen here was acting as if it was a national secret?" Jasper asked.

"Because it was shaped like a-"

I tried to talk over the top of Jake to drown out the rest of his sentence. "Shut the fuck-"

"-Love heart," he finished.

Jasper burst into gales of laughter.

"Thanks a lot, fucker," I growled.

Jake snickered. "What are friends for, bro."

"So why'd you get Yorkie to cut it out?" Jasper asked as he snipped the end of the suture.

"If you've ever been in prison, you'll know it's best not to have anything that makes people zero in on your ass while you are trying to get clean in the communal chambers," I said by way of explanation. "So, who was the girl, Jaaaaake?" I gasped as Jasper pulled out the suture. I know the suture line was only about an inch in length, but it felt as though the stitch was about a foot long, as it was slowly dragged out from beneath the tender surgical wound.

"A friend," Jake answered cryptically.

"She works with me," Jasper added. "She had to bring me some supplies and equipment.

"What's her name?" I asked impatiently as I pulled up the back of my pants.

"It's not important right now. Sufficed to say, if it wasn't for that girl and her connections, you and Colin would probably still be in prison. Now roll over and pull up your sleeve. I need to insert a PICC line."

"Okay, well, that sounds like something I don't want to be around for, so I'll see you in about a month, bro." Jake roughly ruffled my hair, and I winced when his fingers touched the newly exposed scar at my hairline.

"Ow! Watch the hair, dickhead. I think you've already done enough damage, thank you very much."

"You are such a pussy," Jake teased.

"Yeah, says the guy who's about to run away in case I start to bleed," I countered sarcastically.

"Seriously, man, I hope this ESME thing helps you cope while you can't see. If the retinal reconfiguration is successful, it will be all worth it in the end. We'll catch up again properly when you get out. I've missed you, bro."

"Yeah, I look forward to catching up, too. Thanks again for taking Carlisle back home."

"It was an honor. You know you can always count on me for the important stuff," Jake said sincerely.

"Thanks, man."

"So, is this an intimate moment for you guys, because if you two are gonna kiss each other goodbye, I can always come back later." Jasper burst into laughter at his own joke.

"Fuck off, Jasper," Jake and I said simultaneously.

-oo0oo-

I was sitting on the edge of a metal platform with a bathrobe sitting over my lap. My lower legs dangled in a warm, viscous fluid, and I moved my feet gently to and fro. Jasper connected me to various lines that would monitor my bodily functions, alter my brainwaves, and keep me hydrated and nutritionally fed.

Jasper had spent much of the afternoon explaining the ESME immersion process, and soon I would be going into the tank. I just wanted to get everything underway as the painkillers I had taken some hours ago were starting to wear off. The pain behind my eyes was about to become unbearable.

"Okay, it's time to get in. Turn around and lower yourself into the tank," Jasper instructed as he removed the bathrobe.

I was now naked and blind, so I felt particularly vulnerable and embarrassed. "Stop looking at my package, Jasper," I said to lighten the moment.

"Yeah, right. You wish you had something worth looking at. Your Ma doesn't call me 'Tripod' without a good reason you know..."

"You wish." I laughed.

"Well, I do actually."

"What?"

Jasper was silent for a moment before speaking. "I've been meaning to speak to you about Mary-Alice for some time. I should tell you that I've developed feelings for her."

To say I was surprised at his revelation would be a lie. Over the years, I've seen the way Jasper looks at Mary-Alice. I knew he was fighting some sort of mental battle because Jasper is my age, and Mary-Alice is seven years older than we are.

"Does Ma know how you feel about her?"

"Well… being an Oracle, I'm fairly certain she has some idea," he said sarcastically. "I just wanted to speak to you about it first."

"You're both consenting adults, Jasper, and as long as you spare me the gory details of your sex life and don't expect me to refer to you as 'Daddy,' I have no problem with the two of you being together, if that's what Ma wants too."

"Oh God, you have no idea how nervous I've been about having this conversation with you." Jasper chuckled in relief.

"Yeah, so you decided to wait until I was blind, naked and less likely to punch you in the nuts to drop your bombshell on me. Way to go, man," I teased.

Jasper slapped the back of my head. "Shut up… Son."

"Fuck you." I laughed.

"No, I think I'll save my awesome bedroom skills for Mary-Alice, thank you very much."

"I said no gory details, remember?" We both burst into laughter.

"Just get in the damn tank, Cullen, before I push you in. I'm getting tired of looking at your dick."

"Well, it's not my fault it's so big you can't take your eyes off it." I quickly turned my body and lowered myself into the warm liquid before he could hit me again.

"That's it! No anesthetic induction for you. I'm just gonna hold your head under with my foot and let you breathe in the Liquivent fully awake." I felt Jasper pushing down lightly on my head with his hand.

"You want me to pull you in here?" I threatened as I held onto his wrist. We were playfully tussling when I felt something soft brush up against my body. "Whoa! What the fuck was that?"

"Um…"

"Jasper?"

I reached out with one hand because I was using the other one to tread water to stay afloat. My hand touched something soft, and I gave it a squeeze. It felt like a… tit, and a nicely sized one at that. I pulled my hand back as if it had been burned, because even though I was blind, a light flashed in my eyes, and that only ever happened when I touched an injured or sick person.

"There's another body in here, Jasper."

"Um… yeah. I kinda hoped you wouldn't notice."

"Who is it? Are they plugged into this machine too?"

"Her name is Bella. Bella's brother, Emmett, is one of my best friends, and he is the co-owner of ESME, along with Rosie and me. Emmett and Rosie are married, and this is their personal immersion tank in the basement of their house. Bella is in the tank as she is going through some emotional problems. She's on the verge of PTSD."

If the girl had PTSD as Jasper had mentioned, then that explained why my body had tried to heal her when I'd touched her skin.

"Maybe this tank thing isn't such a good idea after all," I said as something that felt like hair tickled along my bicep.

"No, it's a great idea… unless, of course, you want to deal with the pain of your eyes for the next month. However, if I were you, I would refrain from touching Bella's tits again. If Emmett ever finds out about this, I'm sure he'd love to rip your arms from your body and then beat _me_ about the head with the soggy ends. In fact, it's probably best if you just try to stay away from her altogether."

"Why?"

"Normally when someone uses ESME, they have a personality disk created, which is then incorporated into the program. You don't have a disk, so Bella is going to be the dominant personality in the excursion. If you two meet up, you may not have full control over your environment or even your own will. If she says 'jump', you might not even get a chance to contemplate asking 'how high' before you start jumping. You'll feel highly compelled to do as she asks. Basically, you'll be entering _her_ world, and unless you can really concentrate, you'll just end up like a puppet on a string." Jasper let out a small laugh. "Emmett learned about that issue the hard way. There was this one time when Emmett and Rosie were in the tank and mid-excursion the disk drive holding his personality disk failed."

"So what happened to him?"

"Let's just say Rosie didn't show him any mercy. Whenever Rosie gives me a hard time about something, I threaten to remove her personality disk the next time she goes on an excursion, just so Emmett can get his own revenge on her."

"So how can I avoid the girl?"

"Bella chose the Disney World theme park expedition, so it means you will be staying in the Disney Grand Floridian Resort. When you emerge in the expedition, you will wake up underwater in the bath tub. Just stay in the hotel suite, order room service and watch pay-per-view porn or whatever. You won't really have much choice about leaving the room anyway. Without a personality disk, you probably won't even have any clothes to wear."

"Okay, so say if I do meet her and things get out of hand; is there a way out?"

"Go to the lobby of the resort and in the center, there is a table with a large green vase on it. If you move the vase from the center of the table, the program will cease running, but you'll both wake up. Look… I'm sure it will be fine. Just avoid her and be vigilant."

"How do you expect me to be vigilant if I don't even know what she looks like? I can't exactly see her right now."

"Well, you've already met."

"When?"

"In the medical clinic. Bella was Carlisle's Nurse Practitioner, and she was there when you and Jake were trying to save Carlisle."

"But I didn't see what she looked like then either. She came in after I had started to heal Carlisle; I was already blinded by that point," I explained.

"Oh, right… well she's twenty-two; she's got long brown hair and brown eyes. Um… what else? She's about five-foot-four. She's a bit shy… somewhat innocent really. I dunno… she was always just Emmett's little sister to me. We never really hung out that much together."

With the way Jasper had described the girl, she seemed fairly unremarkable. I would just have to do as he suggested and stay in my hotel room. If I could survive solitary confinement for three weeks in the dark with crappy food, a waste bucket and nothing but a button to entertain myself; being trapped in a hotel room for a month with a TV, bed, toilet and unlimited room service would be no hardship at all.

"Okay then… let's do this thing."

-oo0oo-

When I opened my eyes, I couldn't see a thing. Everything was dark, and I was worried that the blindness I was subjected to in the real world had been carried over into the virtual world. I was submerged, and I was trying to find the bottom of the tub, so I could sit up out of the water, but I couldn't seem to find it. I was confused.

_Are bathtubs usually this deep?_ I wondered.

I moved my arms and kicked my legs and finally made it to the surface of the water. And that's when I realized there was a lot of water.

I was in the ocean, and the sun was beginning to sink into the horizon. I turned around and there, in the distance, was the shore. I moved my arms and legs, but having had few opportunities to swim before, I wasn't making much progress.

Suddenly, a large wave came up from behind and crashed over the top of me. I was pushed down underneath the surface of the water, and my body tumbled about chaotically. At one point, my head hit the ocean floor, and I felt a jolt of pain shoot through my neck as it awkwardly snapped to one side from the impact.

Frantically, I made my way to the surface again just before another large wave began to build up behind me. This time, however, I positioned myself so that the wave carried me forward, and once my feet finally touched the ocean floor, I waded through the water toward the shore.

On reaching the shore, I staggered for a few feet before I collapsed onto the beach feeling utterly exhausted.

Lifting my face up from the sand, I looked around me and noticed there was a house standing before me about a hundred feet away.

_What the fuck? _

_This can't be Disney World… where in the Hell am I?_

* * *

**A/N - Song inspiration – Where is my mind by The Pixies… or Placebo if your prefer their version… which I do.**

**B-o-B xxx**

* * *

**A/N -  
**

**Thank you for reading Isle E.S.M.E. 2412. Currently this story is on hiatus until my other fic "Drowning, not waving" is complete.  
**

**B.O.B xxx  
**

**Your reviews are encouragement when I'm feeling doubtful… which is often.**

**l**

**l**

**V**


End file.
